I Sleep In the Streets
by Trinity Destler
Summary: [AU: loosely mirrors game plot] Being rewritten. As it is: Cloud is a enigmatic street rat, Rufus is a greedy crown prince and Aeris is the center of all.
1. Bulletproof

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_I Sleep In the Streets_  
  
Book I:

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Paint Me the Sky

Chapter One: Bulletproof

Midgar was an inky black spot on the green face of the planet, a rat-infested hole that spread over a once healthy expanse of country like a plague. The earth itself was griped by the crippling malady, nothing could ever grow within those boundaries. Even the people felt the taint, a bad taste in their mouths of polluted air and the scrape of poisoned soil beneath their feet. A sense of wrongness pervaded anything and everything in the city- if you could even call it a city. It was more of an abyss of every wretched being, every unlovely thing that could find no home in the light of day; in the blackness of Midgar, nothing was beautiful or ugly, everything was weighed by gain.  
  
High above the cold sludge and human decay of the slums loomed the artificial sky, promising the poor an eternity of oppression and bitter misery. The sky of the destitute was the ground beneath the feet of the rich and powerful. The towering tier of earth above earth defied belief, blocking out the sunlight and taking the one last thing that had not been raped and robbed from the common people- their will to live. Beneath the plate the unfortunates dwelt in that sunless prison, poverty not allowing them to leave and human dignity bubbling in protest of staying. The very air they breathed was heavy with moisture from Planet-knows-where, so murky the bright electric lights were dull in the haze. An unnatural fog swirled and twisted almost like a sentient being, curling around lampposts and the giant cylinder of the pillar; clouding all view of the wires and girders that held the plate in place.

The streets were lined with filth, in every possible definition of the word. Grime and a nameless muck collected on the walls and the pavement and all who passed left footprints in the mysterious substance, that which clung to their shoes ensuring they would reek of it for the rest of their lives. Smoke stained anything left above muck-level a melancholy gray-brown, and that was everything. Masses of rags and rubbish that were once human beings lay full-bodied in the stew, some only half-alive and many more than half dead. There was no where to escape from the garbage and the prostitutes and the thieves and the countless other unmentionables that flocked to this haven of slime. There was no escape from the streets.  
  
Few survived it for long; few could maintain their sanity without drowning themselves nightly in the strongest drink money could buy. Not one of them was free- and they knew it. Those lucky enough to have a house were constantly afraid of loosing it, those who weren't feared for their lives. You were safe as long as you were willing to kill those who threatened your safety; violence was law and the only universal language. Some homeless questioned whether it was better to have shelter and risk your life taking what probably belonged to someone else- or remain on the streets where a curious brotherhood guarded you from others like you. At least on the streets you knew were sleeping with the people not dangerous enough to have commandeered a house.  
  
The cleanest life in Midgar was that of a street urchin, the word 'clean' being figurative. They stole only what they needed, killed only those who threatened them and did all they could to keep innocent people off the Streets. Hundreds of them belonged to gangs who worked together to keep from getting dead and maintain as much peace as could be had in Midgar. They knew who they owed and they knew what to do when those who lived outside their order wanted something from them that they could not provide. The password that could call off any bandit, the secret that could guard you from the deplorable cruelty of the rival gangs was a confession of your own lowliness.

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I sleep in the Streets…

To some it was like an anthem, something to be proud of when you had nothing else- in Midgar, it was _freedom_, that which the house-holders and the headhunters could never claim for their own. To the dangerous ones it meant you were no better than they were and no threat to them- and you knew it.  
  
It was night- not that it made any difference in the dank, artificially lit slums- and a dark shape had detached itself from the shadows. The slinking figure steadily, stealthily worked its way along the pathways of Sector Five towards the open back door of a restaurant, warm light spilling out into the alley from the kitchen and beckoning the shadow forward. Another light overhead caught the figure standing still as stone and surveying the activity around his chosen target.

He was of average height, but his elegance somehow made him seem tall, something about him gave such an air of power anyone would feel dwarfed in his shadow. His hands hung loosely at his sides, long, slender fingers twitching in anticipation of use; nimble digits that operated so precisely it was stunning to observe them in action, the hands of a thief. A _good _thief.  
  
His body was much the same, a bundle of long, lean muscle that propelled him with the speed of a gazelle and all the grace and agility of a panther. He had a narrow chest, but broad shoulders and thick, powerful-looking arms; his upper body was draped in a faded blue shirt that had definitely seen better days, being so badly torn there was little point in wearing it at all. Impossibly long legs were covered by beat-up jeans about four sizes too big; he'd strung a length of rope through the belt loops and yanked the waist tight, but it still rested about his slender hips and left another patch of bare skin beneath the hem of the ruined shirt. His feet were bare and dirty, covered in many scratches, presumably from walking through the Streets barefoot.  
  
The eyes that darted back and forth with the movement of the chef cleaning the kitchen up for the night were a melancholy blue that seemed to swirl endlessly and mirror the shade of a summer sky just before a light rain. The colour was so perfectly even, the gaze so deep and intense that anyone passing him would double-take and stare into those eyes... they were so emotionless, so dim- and yet they had a nature of their own that glittered like a thousand diamonds. Their beauty was striking amid their lackluster surroundings, gleaming like mirrors, but even with the stunning complexity within them it seemed as if they were missing something: Something very important to their very nature that was independent to that of their master. He was decidedly grim and indifferent- but those eyes pooled with sadness and an aching need to laugh too long denied.  
  
The face in which these eyes were set was as slender as the rest of the body, soft-looking skin pale as milk with features so utterly exquisite they almost seemed delicate, looking as though they had been painstakingly sculpted by a perfectionist's hand. The lines of his face were so fine- but the angles so harsh, his jaw sharp and his cheekbones jutting with almost sinfully perfect definition were indicating of his rather difficult, yet intriguing attitude. The light rained down on him from above, hitting his hair, a scattered mess of spikes and fly-aways, and making the golden strands sheen like a crown of that metal. He ran a hand through it in impatience as his other hand flexed with eagerness to being the night's 'work'.

The chef was taking longer than usual... too long... something was probably up. With reluctance he abandoned his post and sought to state his insatiable curiosity.  
  
_'Curiosity killed the cat...'_ an old voice rang in his head, laughing merrily at some joke made many years before. He repeated the old saying out loud in a mutter, not exactly certain why he had done so. He wasn't in the habit of talking to himself, but, he supposed if the occasion called for it... he found that chiding was often the occasion.  
  
"Ho there!" this shout was followed by a shrill whistle spiking through the air like a bullet from somewhere over to the thief's right. He covered his ears and bit his lip to keep from yelling something back from behind the shack that offered him a hiding place.  
  
The man who had spoken wore a black suit and that was rather conspicuous in Midgar... the street rat wondered if this man was the reason that the chef was making an extra effort to clean up his slovenly eatery. The food in there could kill an elephant, he knew, he'd stolen it.  
  
"Come inside, sir! We've been expecting you!" The chef answered his client, confirming the street rat's suspicions.  
  
He cursed, turning away from the scene. The chef was getting out by making a deal with the enemy- those chances didn't come often and the things you had to do to get them would turn the stomach of the worst of Midgar's tough customers. Street rats weren't usually willing to do what it took- or condone the people who did, there were better ways to get ahead, it just took a little longer...  
  
"You shouldn't be poking your nose in things that don't concern you, boy." a voice came from directly behind him and the tableau he had just turned his back on, as did the thick hand that grabbed his shoulder and slowly turned him around. He faced the sneer across the face of the suited man and returned it with one of his own.  
  
"_You_ shouldn't touch me," he hissed, hands aching to back up the unspoken threat.  
  
"Why's that?" The man with the suit snickered, putting one meaty hand across his other arm and grinning as though he knew something that this street urchin didn't, "What are you going to do about it? Gonna fight me, kid? I wouldn't advise it."  
  
"Oh yeah?" he said smoothly, not looking the slightest bit flustered, in fact, his expression was completely unchanged. "Why wouldn't you?"  
  
The taller man seemed to show the smallest amount of anger and he quickly uncrossed his arms and glared down at the boy as if he were an insect, "Do you know who you're dealing with? You can't... 'cause if you did you wouldn't have said that- or your just real stupid."  
  
"Stupid is one thing I'm not. Not ignorant either- I know who you are, nobody else with a suit ever hangs around this sector." He hooked a thumb through his belt loop and rested back on his heels, a cocky look on his face as he used his free hand to flip the invader off, "And that's what I think of your monarchy, Turk."  
  
"If you play with fire you'll get burned kid." The Turk's face was deeply lined with threat.  
  
"Yeah, I know, but not if you know what you're doing. Which I do." He grinned, "Fuck king Shinra..." he paused for effect, leaning closer to the Turk and smiling wider, genuine amusement reaching his cold eyes, "Fuck 'em."  
  
"Insolent little bastard!" the Turk lifted a hand and moved to punch him across the jaw but the rebel avoided his swing with ease and slipped around behind the older man and kicked him soundly in the ass, knocking him face-first into the ground. The Turk scrambled to his feet, his guard up now- he hadn't been expecting someone who knew how to fight- he hadn't been expecting any resistance at all. He faced the traitor and dropped into a battle stance, ready to fend off an attack as he watched the urchin warily.  
  
"All that training and some simple 'kid' got the jump on you?" he was grinning again, enjoying himself. "Or am I more than what I seem?" He watched the Turk's features change ever so slightly as he considered that possibility. More than anything, he enjoyed toying with the enemy, especially an enemy from Shinra who would jump at the chance to exploit anything and everything. The government was definitely corrupt.  
  
"I dunno, kid, are you?" the Turk was tempted to smile.  
  
"Maybe... maybe not." He placed a hand on his hip and ran his fingers through his hair, flicking his head back arrogantly to get the full effect. This tactic never failed to infuriate the opponents he faced that were bigger than him- they tended to take offense to the silent boast. "Maybe I'm bulletproof- you'll never know, will you?"  
  
"Well, buck, if I shot you I'd know." The heavy set man was tempted to let his guard down as the banter continued, but he wasn't quite that stupid. Even against some ragamuffin on the street it was always good to be prepared.  
  
"Yeah, sure you would, but are you willing to take the chance that I'm not bulletproof- but may have some other hidden talent? After all, not many street rats know about the Turks and not many street rats know how to fight a Turk. Then there's the way I talk... do I sound like any of the other bums you've met?" he rubbed his chin philosophically, safe atop a pile of garbage and looking down on his foe. "Me, personally, I wouldn't want to take the risk that one of my superiors was watching the street rat and maybe even employing him."  
  
"You know kid, I have to hand it to you, you're very clever. Now, give me the straight facts without any of the head-messing bullshit, is any of that stuff got a lick of truth to it?" he still kept his guard up. If the kid was telling the truth he couldn't- or shouldn't- hurt him, but the kid didn't need to worry about that.  
  
"I dunno- what do you think?" he smirked. This was going better than he'd thought it would.  
  
"I think yer shitting me." The Turk was getting tired of being answered with questions.  
  
"Okay. Shoot me then. We'll find out." He grinned again, his face lighting up with mischief. He crossed his arms over his chest and stood with his feet apart, cocky and sure of himself. There was a long calculating silence. "Are you a coward?"  
  
"Nah, I'm careful." He lifted his gun, a small pistol that he rarely needed to use. The kid didn't flinch and he didn't seem the least bit nervous- the Turk couldn't tell if that was because he was so sure his little psychological game had worked or if the young thief was crazy and really thought the gun wouldn't hurt him. What if there was some truth to the story? What if somebody used the kid as some kind of lackey or somebody on the inside of a gang... those kinds of workers were hard to get....  
  
"I'm waiting over here."  
  
"Yeah, yeah." For a long, long time neither of them moved and the Turk's gun stayed homed on his prey. And finally, the urchin watched as the barrel of the gun slowly fell down to the older man's side. He grinned again.  
  
"Y'see? Bulletproof." He uncrossed his arms and plunked down into a sitting position, knowing full well the Turk was no longer a threat to him. He hadn't even needed to fight- this was turning out to be a better day than most. His former enemy finally lowered his guard, understanding they were at an unexpected truce.  
  
"What's yer name kid?" he asked roughly.  
  
"Gonna check up on me back at base? Well... I'll be long gone by then anyway, won't I? So either way, it won't matter." He paused as if to reconsider it before giving out such important information. "For the first part you can stop calling me kid, I'm twenty-one years old and I don't need you getting all senile and righteous on me."  
  
"Really." The Turk didn't seem amused. "Now your name hot shot."  
  
The kid turned to him in a flash of gold, his eyes glinted, "Strife." He said in a strange tone that sounded harsh and yet laughing, both bitter and proud and something else that defied description. "I'd say I was aptly named... wouldn't you agree? Cloud Strife...."  
  
"I dunno, Strife, I can't say I know you that well. I'm gonna make it a point to learn, though! Next time I see you, you aren't gonna play any games with me." The Turk smiled a greasy smile and started to turn to walk away- he would keep his word, nobody got the better of a Turk and did it twice.  
  
"Won't matter. I can fight with my body as well as my mind. Sorry the same can't be said for you- so long then, until the next time." Cloud waved, wriggling his fingers and grinning in mockery as the Turk retreated.  
  
Once the suit had put some distance between them Cloud pulled out the wallet and the set of keys he'd stolen... at least he had more than enough gil to eat for a week and he hadn't had to go to any trouble to get it. _Bulletproof... this is one of my better ones._ He chuckled to himself and rose to find somewhere to eat that was less likely to kill him than the restaurant he usually stole from.

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"I say we can't risk it!" the rumbling, coarse voice almost seemed to echo from the giant of a man who gave it life. Shoulders acres across and towering height made him a threatening figure even when he was seated, yet for some strange reason, he didn't seem imposing to those sitting around him. There was a pervading gentleness in his eyes and beneath the rough exterior that undermined his appearance.  
  
"Who the slobbering hell asked you, you big hairy-ass fuck?" a second, also rough and tumble voice said, it's owner spitting over his jacket clad shoulder into the darkness.  
  
"I'm the fucking leader! And I ain't riskin' nobody's neck jus' to check out some rumour we heard in the damn slums!" the tall man leapt to his feet in his fury and slowly sank back down to the filth of the alleyway in the silence that followed his sudden outburst.  
  
They sat in something like a circle with their backs against the cracked and dirty wall of an old abandoned hotel that looked more than ready to fall in at any moment. A fire burned in the center of the rag tag bunch, blazing away in a on rusted out barrel half; they rested their feet on the ruined metal, barely feeling the heat through the thickness of their boots.  
  
The huge man who had spoken first was sitting on a hunk of shingle that had fallen from the hotel's roof, his big, meaty hands resting in front of him against his one bent knee, the other leg extended. His skin was a deep chocolate brown, enormous, muscular arms exposed from the raggedy vest he wore.  
  
Across from him, the man who questioned his authority was leaning against the wall with his legs splayed out in an attitude of extreme disrespect to common cordiality. His callused hand flipped a cigarette out of a soft, well-worn packet tucked under the head band of his goggles (which he wore for no discernible purpose as far as his companions knew) as if he had an audience of a million people.  
  
He cupped his hands and flipped up his collar to shield the tiny flame of his lighter and light the smoke, holding it between his fingers close to the knuckle, letting smoke slowly escape his mouth and curl over his upper lip. This lunatic left the glowing ember of the end of his cigarette near his cropped blond hair as he eyed his companions.  
  
"May not be jus' a rumour, ya bull-headed buffoon. We ain't got no ideas to spare... 'less you got something you ain't sharing with the class, Barret?" he took another long drag on his smoke.  
  
The 'bull-headed buffoon' glared at him.  
  
"Quit it both of you," a calm, female voice interrupted the showdown. "...We really don't have any choice but to follow every lead... I think we should go for it."  
  
"You agreein' wit' Cid?" Barret sprang up straight, seeming truly shocked; his smoking adversary started laughing like a hyena.  
  
"Come on, you know we have to..." the female was sighing, fed up with the childish antics of their fearless leader. There were times she wished they had someone a little less… _involved _in charge of the operation, it would be nice to have one meeting where no one took anything personally.  
  
"Fine!" Barret crossed his arms sulkily, "Hey, whatta 'bout the new kid; what d'you say?"  
  
"I say I'm with the oldster," a much younger, much cheekier voice responded, giggling.  
  
"Hey, shut up!" Cid barked, sitting up, bristling at being called old, "He's olderan' me, ya know!"  
  
The level-headed voice again, silencing the new argument before it could begin, "Then we're all agreed. No one's leaving Midgar for a long time.... Guess we better get settled in. You two-"

The heavy-set leader and the smoker were fingered.

"-Find us some place to crash."  
  
"_Why_ am I always paired wit' him!" Barret protested in a wailing shout loud enough to wake the dead.  
  
"Could be worse, chum," the cigarette was hanging from Cid's lip as he grinned, "could be worse."  
  
"Yeah, right, like how?"  
  
"...Oh, have faith." his grin widened sardonically around the cigarette.  
  
"Grow up you two- and get moving!"

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The Turk was cursing up a storm as he walked along the dreary pathways of sector five, looking for a familiar shock of golden-blond hair. He'd told his story over and over again as more and more people became interested- it seemed Strife was telling the truth, he had had some odd jobs. Nothing special and no one would have been too ticked off if he'd met an unfortunate demise, but still.  
  
After hearing the story they got a lot more involved. The Turks admired people who were cunning enough to fight without throwing a single punch- and the tactics and obvious intelligence of a street rat were irresistible to them. They had to find out where he came from.  
  
Cloud Strife, himself was sitting with his back against a run-down building, his face shadowed by his hair as he leaned over, resting his elbows on his knees. Half waiting for the 'visitor' he knew was coming...  
  
A pair of brown leather shoes caked with muck stopped in front of him and he heard a disgruntled snort, "Strife, I got a job for you."  
  
Cloud grinned.


	2. The Prince and the Pauper

Chapter Two: The Prince and the Pauper

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Out of the cage… out of the cage, that's all I've wanted for so long now… And now I'm finally going to get it. Why am I so afraid? Just because I don't know what's coming- I haven't while I've been in here either; why does this familiar glass room suddenly seem so comforting…. Why can't I face the possibility I may never come back here after swearing I'd rather day than live here one more day.

Why is everything so dark?

What ever happened to green and blue and a sky? What ever happened to sun and clouds? Why can't I breathe?

Put me back, I've lived in my cage so long, I'm not safe outside the boundaries of my bars….

"What kind of job, Turk?" Cloud asked disinterestedly, pushing himself to his feet and tugging on the pair of worn, brown leather gloves he'd recently acquired in a street brawl. He flicked his wrists, watching the bandage on the left to make sure it stayed in place. "Or is that a redundant question, considering who's doing the hiring?" He looked up at the Turk expectantly.

"It's a special kind of job- one that not many people are suited for. Rufus thinks you can do it." The Turk didn't look very pleased about this. In fact, he looked decidedly miffed about the turn of events that placed the street rat higher up the pecking order than himself; or at least it would, if the wretch turned out to be as good in a fight as he built himself up to be.

"Oh he does, does he? What do you think Turk?" Cloud rested his left hand on his hip and his lips curled up in a bitter sort of smile.

"I think you'll be back here or dead in an hour or less," he shoved his hands into his pockets angrily and started to stalk away, assuming Cloud would follow him.

"Where you going, Shinra?" the blonde crossed his arms and arched an eyebrow. "You think I'm going to trust you just like that? After everything your cursed bosses have done to me and the whole population? After you being ready to kill me not too long ago? With you just being a stranger in freakin' _Midgar_? Give me one good reason to trust you."

The Turk rubbed his temples as he turned back to the young man he was supposed to recruit. "Look, kid, I personally don't care what happens to you or if you come with me- except I'll get my ass fried if I don't bring you in. Safe and sound. They want you whole. So, you can trust me because if I try anything funny it's my butt." He extended a hand in a symbol of camaraderie.

"You could be lying about that." Cloud tried to bite back the sardonic grin that tugged at his lips.

"You're mocking me and I won't stand here and take it." The Turk glared at him menacingly.

"Yeah? I thought you just said you couldn't hurt me?" the grin was getting more and more insistent.

"As long as I don't maim you it'll be all right-" he leapt forward, trying to take the slender warrior by surprise.

Cloud had been waiting for the attack he'd provoked and his arm shot up, catching the blow that was meant for his head against his left forearm and tried to get a quick jab in with his right fist; only to be blocked in turn by the Turk.

"Would you want to risk it?" Cloud hissed menacingly. Not liking the close quarters he was sharing with the heavy set man, he sneered and struggled to push passed the Turk's defense; their arms trembled in the battle of strength.

"How can you be so strong-" the Turk grunted as he tried to gain some territory, "when yer so scrawny?"

"Sometimes you have to-" the blonde shoved hard and knocked his rival in the gut with his own hand. Cloud grinned, panting for air as the Turk stepped back, winded, "...look beyond appearances. See, I've got this-" he leaned over and scraped beneath a trash heap nearby where he had been sitting and hauled up the biggest damn broad sword the Turk had ever laid eyes on. The massive blade was as long as the man who wielded it was tall and almost as thick.

"Fuck!" the Turk spat in astonishment.

Cloud smiled wryly as he swung the gigantic weapon up above his head, around once in a tight circle and then down again to rest on his shoulder. "And I'd have to be pretty strong to carry it, wouldn't I?"

"Lemme see!" the Turk muttered hastily, grabbing for the sword. Cloud shrugged and lifted it off his shoulder, holding it out with only one hand on the long handle. He didn't let it show how much work it really was to do this... he wanted to take the other man by surprise only to have himself made a fool of yet again by a twenty-one year-old kid.

"Be my guest." Was all he said.

The Turk seized the sword's thick handle, clenching it tightly in his right hand, a look of triumph passed his features momentarily- then Cloud released his own hold of his sword with a sadistic smirk.

"Oomph!" the sharp point hit the ground with a heavy 'clang' and the Turk coloured as he grasped it in both hands and tried to lift it horizontal again. He finally managed to pull the tip up with much grunting and groaning and let it drop again- then watched as Cloud swung it easily onto his shoulder again- grinning the whole time.

"I don't use a sword." He said touchily in his own defense, "And the balance is terrible."

Cloud laughed, "Yeah, yeah it is. There's really nothing you can do about it- swords aren't meant to be this big y'see."

"Where'd _you _get it, street rat?" The Turk was still panting from the exertion of lifting the impossibly big sword. Cloud's eyes narrowed and the crystalline blue orbs slowly hardened to chips of ice as the mocking smile faded from his expression.

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"Hey! Yeah, you, kid!" the tall form of a man with long, wild black hair towered in his line of vision. The speaker wore thick cotton pants splattered with engine grease, old food, paint and other unknown _substances, his chest was clad in a tight, sleeveless turtleneck that may or may not have been blue once. Over his shoulder he had strapped the battered remains of a breastplate to his bandoleer. On his back and protruding over the one little bit of armor was a huge broadsword that looked impossible to wield its immense weight visibly straining the bandoleer._

"I- I," he stuttered, not certain if he should tell the truth and risk another… episode…

"Well, spit it out, kiddo!" the voice was loud and friendly and the brown eyes that suddenly sank to his level as their owner knelt down next to him were laughing and kind. And they were luminous with a slight hint of interior light… They widened in shock as they returned his gaze, "Your eyes glow!"

"I-I-I know, I-I-"

"C'mon baby-blues, from now on, you stick with me, nobody with them glowin' peepers should be alone on the street. 'Specially not when they're- "

"Five, sir." He found his voice at long last.

"None of that sir with me yer little lordship, wherever you learned all that gentleman stuff, ya won't be needin' it here. Forget it, make room in yer spiky little head for somethin' useful. You call me Zack and nothin' else, alrighty?"

"All… right… Zack, sir."

Zack sighed, grabbing the boy's tiny, pale hand, "What d'I just tell you? Learn to follow orders quick, kid, or you'll be on your duff faster than you can blink and say Jack Robinson."

"Yes, Zack, sir…" Cloud fell silent for a long moment before looking up at his new guardian with a puzzled look that just wouldn't fade away, "Zack, sir… who is Jack Robinson?"

Zack groaned, but his eyes twinkled with the laughter he was fighting to keep on the inside. The kid was all right.

"None of your concern." Cloud spat, turning the razor sharp single edge of the huge sword on his shoulder outward on an angle that would be lethal to the Turk with the slightest provocation.

"Fine... someone else will look after your insolence, I don't care enough to make it an issue with you, kid." He wiped his forehead and swallowed heavily, looking about to suggest they begin moving.

"You're afraid of me." Cloud commented, his expression stony. Behind the unfathomable blue eyes, however, he was carefully considering this new development. The sword was always excellent protection for him, mostly by its mere presence, but he hadn't expected to intimidate a Turk so easily... Then again, his enemies didn't usually get the chance to feel the weight of the weapon for themselves. He flexed his free hand and pondered what to do with the new power he'd discovered.

"Don't flatter yourself..." the Turk trailed off, Cloud didn't let the smirk he felt on the inside show, "Now come if yer coming, I'm tried of these games." He started walking again. Cloud would have shrugged if not for the steel weight of the sword on his shoulder, but he did slowly follow, picking his way through the trash filled streets to avoid sharp objects that would pierce his bare feet.

They walked in silence for a time before the Turk halted in front of a thick, chain link fence topped off with barbed wire.

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Yuffie sighed as she balled up her calligraphy for the fifth time, leaning back in her desk chair and swinging her feet over to rest on the desk as she flicked the crumpled, inky mess at the face of her young tutor. He grabbed it in midair and dropped it onto his own desk, big, red head lifting again to stare at his pupil.

"If you're not going to make the effort I really _don't see the purpose in my being here." His voice was smooth and even, sounding cultured and intelligent, almost old in a youthful tone. It was strange to see it come from his body. The voice was also kind and gentle, soft and rarely raised above a quiet speaking volume for polite conversation. He seemed to have some kind of accent that was not of Yuffie's homeland, or Midgar for that matter._

Yuffie eyed him as she listened to the exasperated tone, lazy with sitting around all day she wasn't very spurred by the comment. "To enjoy the pleasure of my company, of course, Red!" she spread her hands with a showy grin, as if the answer were obvious.

'Red' battled the urge to bang his head against the heavy book he was reading. "I am here to educate _you, as difficult a concept as that is for you to grasp, Ms Kisargi. Your father wants you to be a _good _empress when the time comes. I'm sure he wouldn't waste his time and mine if you weren't the _only _heir." Evidently, Red had had this conversation before and it was becoming tiresome._

"You should relax, Red, you're so uptight." Yuffie grinned again, "What does an empress need with calligraphy anyway? I'll have scribes _for writing. And really, who said I was so keen on being empress? Maybe I don't wanna get stuck up in the pagoda for the rest of my life? Doesn't anybody stop and think about that?"_

The lion-like beast that was Nanaki Amunred of Cosmo Canyon stood with lightening speed, leaping the few feet to land right in front of his charge, claws digging into the polished wood of the desktop. "You don't have a choice." He said from deep in his throat, his usually calm disposition wavering with his orders from the Emperor Godo and with his patience wearing dangerously thin.

"Who says I don't? Mebbe I got a plan." Yuffie appeared unruffled, though on the inside she was congratulating herself for not soiling her underclothes in shock and terror at her teacher's sudden move. She pulled herself together fairly quickly, though- after all, it was just Red.

"Don't try to be mysterious please, Ms Yuffie, it really won't work." Nanaki sounded almost pleading, "Get your head out of the clouds for just long enough to complete one_ lesson, one- that's all I ask." He looked up at the small teenage girl imploringly._

"Why should I?" Yuffie narrowed dark, obsidian eyes, crossing her thin arms and pouting.

Nanaki sat back on his haunches, ready to give complete sincerity a try with the sixteen-year old heir, "Yuffie… There's unrest in Midgar that grows with every year the Shinra royal family remains in power. The politics are shot all to heck there since about the year you were born… the people… made a grave error. There was a hope for their society as well as the whole Western Continent- but they misjudged that help too quickly and made a terrible mistake. Soon there will be an uprising to overthrow the corrupt monarchy. What happens when the Wuitaian Empire must be ready to seize control and there is no true monarch on the throne?"

"Conquest…?"

Nanaki bowed his head and said softly, "It will be better than Shinra… at least it would be if Wuitai were in the hands of a good ruler, herself."

"You're trying to guilt me, Red, and I don't like it."

"You need to accept your responsibility and these are the lengths you've driven me to. You have no one to blame but yourself."

"Not if I can help it."

Nanaki longed for his homeland, his native language, flowing script and his dusty library of ancient tomes that never answered him when he asked questions aloud. The fiery heir go to the Midgar slums for all he cared…. But that wasn't true…. His conscience annoyed him from time to time.

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"The pillar?" Cloud gazed up at the towering edifice in distaste, it did effectively serve the purpose it was erected to serve; it completely dominated life in the slums and it crushed the hope of the people.

"Yeah, get climbing." The Turk took out a key and unlocked a hefty gate that blocked off the area around the enormous pillar. Cloud raised an eyebrow at the command, the Turk caught the look, "Kid, if yer gonna work for the royal family of Shinra, yer gonna need to learn to do what they tell you."

"I haven't taken a job yet, Turk," Cloud replied coolly, stepping into the locked off area and grabbing a rung of the ladder that led up to the first flight of stairs, "I'm just curious." _There's that word again.... I wonder how the cat's doing._

"Yeah, whatever Blondie," the Turk slammed the gate behind them. "Don't think you'll be walking out of the palace again once you're in unless the prince _sends _you out." He clambered up the ladder behind his more agile companion who had already reached the top and was looking down on the Turk with an air of contempt.

Cloud scowled at the remark; "I can get out."

"Sorry," the Shinra employee didn't seem at all apologetic; "nobody gets out unless Shinra wants 'em to get out." He started climbing the first flight of stairs that led steeply up into the artificial sky.

"I do." Cloud said flatly.

"Delusional too... great." The Turk muttered under his breath, behind him, Cloud smiled grimly, having heard him.

The long haul up the pillar always left this particular Turk winded and uncomfortable in the heavy suit he wore, but it seemed to have little effect upon Cloud Strife, who continued to survey the scenery nonchalantly as if he were sight seeing, rocking his sword back and forth on his shoulder. They traveled in silence, mostly because the Turk didn't have the wind to talk and Cloud saw no reason to strike up a conversation. He usually didn't. The stairs ended barely halfway up the metal pillar and they were greeted at the top of the last flight by huge steel doors into the tower itself.

"Here's where they decided to make life easier for us." The Turk said, punching a code into the keypad next to the elevator doors.

"I wasn't complaining." The street rat was grinning again, his mood improving with watching the Turk embarrass himself.

"What's with you anyway?" the Turk in question demanded irritably, knocking his fist into the wall and staring over at Cloud with lazy annoyance.

Cloud's cold attitude returned with a vengeance. "I'm not someone who tells people like you anything they don't need to know. That's what's 'with me'."

Silence.

The Turk regarded the elevator doors sliding open and wondered what the hell had happened to him to make him so passive all of a sudden. Anybody else doing this to him and he would have had them dead hours ago- or at least badly wounded and good and scared. It wasn't as if the street rat was quite _that _imposing.

Cloud stepped passed him and leaned his sword against the wall, crossing intricately muscled arms over his chest and staring at the Turk with moody blue eyes that looked as though they could burn through steel.

Okay, so maybe the street rat _was _that imposing- he could still take him out. Right.

"You'd better not pull this superiority shit with the prince Rufus," the Turk warned, sulking against the wall as his stomach lurched with the movement of the lift. "He won't shrug crap like that off. He's one hell of a spoiled brat, so be respectful."

"Why, exactly, would I feel the need to respect a spoiled brat?" Cloud's tone was colourless and his sudden total lack of emotion was unnerving his companion in the small space.

"Because this particular spoiled brat only has to snap his fingers and you'll be upside down in a vat of lard hanging by your own entrails." The Turk tapped his knuckles against the wall impatiently; he'd been the recipient of this exact threat and the fact that it didn't seem to faze Cloud at all irritated him even more.

"I don't think I have too much to worry about." The youth said evenly, shaking a few strands of his hair out of his eyes.

"Oh, I think you do." The elevator stopped with a last great lurch and the doors opened to reveal a long white hall with nothing whatsoever inside it. Nothing except a small party of black clad men with a figure in white at its center.

"This the one, Reco?" the man in white stepped forward. He wore white slacks and a long white overcoat with a black turtleneck peaking out of the collar. His face was narrow with soft lines and his blond hair was cropped in the back and long on top, a few slick tendrils fell in front of his eyes. "Of course it is," he continued, answering his own question, "you were right- the resemblance is just enough."

"Yes, your highness," Reco, the Turk, said somewhat belatedly, "From a distance..."

"With some work," the prince smirked, dismissing the guards in front of him with a wave of his gloved hand and approaching Cloud with an elusive smile. "Cloud Strife, I presume? I am Prince Rufus of Shinra... the heir to the throne. You will, if I decide, be working for me- directly."

"I will, if _I _decide, be working for you." Cloud clenched his teeth, smiling bitterly and giving a mocking bow, "Your highness." His eyes had gone a moody mixed gray around the edges and they glinted dangerously.

Rufus didn't bat an eye, "You'll be learning about insolence and its consequences, Strife, and I think you'll find yourself with an improved attitude."

"There's nothing wrong with my attitude." Cloud said, as even and calm as ever.

"Interesting..." Rufus smiled coyly, acting very much as if he knew something Cloud didn't. "Before I start a debate with you, I'd better decide if I even wish to hire you- hadn't I?" Rufus smile widened, something about the look was decidedly filthier than the lowest streets of Midgar at their worst. He reached up, the black leather glove on his hand making it contrast sharply with his sleeve and the room around them. Rufus grabbed Cloud's sharp chin- gently- between his thumb and forefinger and turned it to the side with small pressure from his fingers- observing his captive with a calculating expression.

Cloud found himself tolerating this, much to his own amazement. Something told him this job wouldn't be exactly what he was expecting- although he couldn't really say what it was he thought he would find- and besides that, it was probably wise to leave the heir's hand unmolested. Regardless of how strange its travels seemed...

"What precisely will I be doing?" Cloud asked, his voice again devoid of the tiniest fraction of feeling. Rufus turned his face to the other side, preventing him from getting a good look at the prince's expression, all he knew was Rufus continued to peer at him with a scrutinizing gaze.

"You will be informed when- or if- I have decided you will be getting the job." Rufus looked at him a moment longer then fingered a lock of his hair, muttering under his breath, "...too long... too gold."

There was a long pause as Rufus turned and walked back to the group of men in black. As soon as he was within their ranks he whirled to face Cloud again and smirked as he snapped his fingers.

"XIOO1- attack!"

Cloud didn't have time to think before he had tossed the black shape that had darted towards him against the wall and pounced on it, pinning it to the floor. With the threat neutralized his body's instincts slowly relinquished control on his brain and he could think again.

"Why?" he demanded, testily.

"I had to test you. You never gave Reco here," he gestured to the suit who was still standing by the doorway with his hands clasped behind his back, "much of a chance to observe your fighting prowess... your physical fighting prowess, that is. I _was _impressed with your mental acrobatics, which you did give Reco plenty opportunity to sample."

"I'm blushing here." Cloud muttered sarcastically. "Now have you made up your mind about this job?"

"Well... on the job, you couldn't carry this..." Rufus had been planning to dangle the youth's sword temptingly- but found out all too clearly that he couldn't and had to be satisfied with holding the handle with the blade on the ground.

Cloud leapt to his feet, ignoring the guard below him that also scrambled to a standing posture. "Give me back my sword or I will let you know first hand how much 'fighting prowess' I've got." He balled his hands into fists, fighting the urge to take a swing before the prince had a chance to respond.

Rufus laughed, "I admire your spirit, really, but no matter how great the warrior- there's no way you could make it out of here alive if something untold were to happen to me."

"Then I would make it dead... with honour." Cloud again, seemed unfazed by the threat.

Rufus laughter was edged with grudging respect, "Alright Strife, I'll give you back your sword- on only one condition, someday you tell me where you got this thing. I've never seen anything like it." The prince offered his free hand in Cloud's direction, "Is it an accord?"

Cloud nodded assent and stepped forward- ignoring the prince's offer of a handshake and instead shouldering his sword with practiced ease. "Now the job." He said without missing a beat. "I'll find somewhere to keep this where it will be more than safe."

"All right, I won't lie to you Strife, this first job is nothing- but it is essential that you perform a menial task before I entrust something important to you- do you understand?" Rufus was suddenly business like and his face was completely serious.

"I am not a fool, I understand."

"Excellent. Your primary function in this assignment- as you might have already guessed- is to impersonate me. You will attend a rally where a company we back is speaking to the populace of the city they operate in and answering questions that come up. It could be messy. The reasons I am sending you are one: because I don't wish to endanger my life so pointlessly. Two: because I do not trust you and I want to before I send you on your real mission. Three: because there is really no cause for me to be there aside from to visually show the royal support behind this company."

"You don't want to bother to bore yourself- is that it?" Cloud was not amused.

Rufus smiled again, "More or less."

"Very well, I accept." _Although how anyone could think I'm him is beyond me_

"I am glad to hear it, it would have been very tedious for me to find someone else, and the next mission.... You'll want to prove yourself, Strife, the next mission is worth your pains, I assure you." Rufus tried to smile mysteriously, but unfortunately failed. "Obviously, steps will need to be taken before I can send you out as my double... first things first, simple things, you will be given clothes identical to these I am wearing and you will have your hair cut-"

Cloud raised his hand to stop the prince there and grinned for the first time since the Turk's antics.

"I'm not cutting my hair- I'm not dying it either, I want to be able to _stop _looking like you when I so desire. I am not being stuck as your double. Anything you do to me must be temporary or I won't take the job."

Rufus gritted his teeth, he was unused to having anyone talk back to him on anything- but he could tell this man was good, and something about him gave the young prince a vague sense of _deja vu_ and he wanted to get to the bottom of it. He swallowed his anger as best he could.

"As you wish, Strife, I suppose that's perfectly reasonable." Rufus was practically biting into his tongue, "You will have to pull your hair back to make it look like mine and I will have to remember to tell them not to have you on the cameras at all, even from a distance. I would not ask you to ever be close to anyone who has met me- your face is much too angular, among other things, but if you aren't even willing to change that much you make it harder on yourself."

"I like a challenge." Cloud was indifferent.

"One thing I will _insist_ is that you wear contact lenses- that is not permanent." Rufus smiled, but the expression wasn't the least bit reassuring.

"Fine by me." The street rat grinned, showing Prince Rufus that he hadn't gained this ground because Cloud had given in, but because Cloud had chosen to give it to him.

Rufus scowled, snapping his fingers and rushing out of the room with a flourish of his long white trench coat, his guards scurrying after him.

****

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The air was thick and hot, I always felt as if I were suffocating. It took all my strength to keep my breathing even as I stared down at my pale, sweat-damp hand pressed against the thick glass of my prison. My breath makes patterns around my fingers and it is all I can do here to watch the intricate swirls form before slide my palm across the surface of the transparent wall and destroy them again.

I have no idea how long it has been like this. It's like living inside a display case at a zoo… except it's worse than that, because at a zoo there are no tests… no experiments…

At least I don't have to wonder why this was done to me- or by whom. I've finally figured it out- I should have known it all along. Mother told me about who and what I am. I can barely remember seeing her face blur in and out that day when she explained it all to me, in one fell swoop, one sitting. Daddy had said that wasn't healthy for such a little girl, and mother had shushed him. We all knew how it was, but none of us seemed to have an idea of what to do about it.

They did something to my eyes a few days ago. At least I think it was days… it's hard to tell. The light never changes here in the white hell of the laboratory. I know it's a lab, I know the smell and I know the equipment… in strange way that's almost comforting, but only barely for a fraction of a second when I stop thinking. They put something into my eyes, they said it would help them with their observations. Perhaps I have tiny cameras in my head and they see what I see… but where is the use in that? It'd be easy enough to find their own fogged window into my world.

Why doesn't anyone save me? I would give anything I could for just one person who looked at me as me- as whatever they saw all people as- and not some kind of lab specimen! I would run through fire for one friend… one person who wouldn't hurt me… _anybody_, please… before I sink into myself and never resurface.


	3. Fools, Rules, Guards and Ghouls

__

Chapter Three: Fools, Rules, Guards and Ghouls

The guard Cloud had knocked against the wall was the very same assigned to take him to be garbed as Rufus _and_ would be 'privileged' enough to accompany him to the hearing. The stony silence in the winding hallways of the palace was deafening to her- for it was a her.

She was staring over at the silent and brooding figure ahead of her with a gaze that could have seared through steel;_ 'I know you...'_ she thought as she looked at the back of his spiky blonde head, _'how?'_

Cloud's face had looked as though it were carved of stone earlier when she could see it earlier, she concluded without ever opening her mouth for experimentation that there was utterly no point in trying to talk to him about it. Even if he did recognize her- which, being fair, he wouldn't get the chance to do since she wasn't about to unmask herself- he didn't seem in any sort of humour to share that kind of information. Or any information, for that matter, or pleasantries… or _anything._

"You know," a low, irritated voice interrupted her train of thought, making her jump in surprise- which she resented, "It makes it even more rude to stare when I can't stare back." Cloud glanced at her over her shoulder, brilliant blue eyes sharp and cool, not quite accusing, but certainly suspicious.

She was baffled at how he could have possibly seen her looking in the first place, she didn't remember being this tactless on her _normal _assignments; "Uh... I... Sorry." She muttered lamely, biting her cheek angrily for making herself look like such an idiot in front of someone who'd already bested her physically.

Cloud actually looked at her this time, admitting to himself that he was a little amused by her apology at the same time wondering what the heck such a naïve incompetent girl was doing on the Royal Guard. "Yeah... well, I don't care how weird-looking I am, so don't bother to do it again."

"You're not weird-looking." The Guard blurted out, then seeming to stew for a long moment in indignation at her mouth for betraying her in such a ridiculous fashion.

A thin blonde eyebrow formed a perfect arch over a cold blue eye. Cloud was oh-so very tempted to just break out into laughter… but that would probably ruin further entertainment at her expense.

"I mean..." she was glad he couldn't see her face- although she had a sneaking suspicion it didn't matter that he couldn't- as she cursed internally, inventing new phrases that would have made a soldier blush. She finally decided she may as well try her luck with honesty- it didn't look like she could make his impression of her much worse, "I thought I recognized you from somewhere."

Cloud regarded her with the same cool disinterest, but behind the facade he was suddenly _very much_ interested. "Yeah?" he commented blandly, "Where?"

"I don't know." The Guard suddenly remembered that she hadn't figured out anything beyond a gut feeling, and that really wasn't something she could negotiate with. She sighed as she let go of her chance to solve the now nagging question, "It was just some stupid thing- don't worry about it."

"I wasn't," Cloud returned to staring at the hallway ahead, "I just wanted to know where a Shinra bodyguard has seen _me_ before, travel the slums much?"

"You'd be surprised how much we see."

"I doubt it, not a lot surprises me."

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__

Yuffie grinned, glancing over her shoulder along the tall thick walls of Wuitai, which boasted guard houses inside _the wall itself, the guard currently on duty still hadn't noticed her- she had made certain of that. Her father's incredibly lax security had always been an endless source of amusement for her; that combined with ninja training and having 'escaped' thousands of times to run through the surrounding farmland as a child, she barely noticed slipping past the guardians anymore._

Of course, she'd never seriously considered leaving _before, she had always come back before her father the Emperor sent out the army to look for her- a few days was the most time she'd ever spent away, and that was in sight of the great wall surrounding the city. Now as she drew closer again to freedom from lessons and council meetings, no one seeing her or stopping her despite a pack far larger than she'd ever carried before- the idea was getting more and more attractive. If she was gone a few months they all might learn a little lesson themselves; in Yuffie appreciation._

Heh._ That was a silly reason to run away, but getting away from dresses that took three hours to put on and longer to take off, ceremonies that were practically subscription sleeping aids and everything else that was hideously boring about court…. Getting all the time in the world to do what _she _wanted to do-_

You'd think being the Empress, or the future Empress or whatever, I'd _get _my way here, but noooo. _Yuffie sighed, mentally grumbling. She was tried of grumbling. She looked back at her father's five level mansion and the gates and the guards one last time before taking her time-tested path out and into the fields and meadows outside where the common farmers lived; she bolted across the open ground as soon as she was clear of the guard's line of sight. Yuffie knew she should probably have gone back and worked out a plan for this… 'expedition' but she worried if she didn't seize the moment she'd rethink it._

She was tired of the nagging sense of judgment that Red had slowly been building in her, and she wasn't going to give it a chance to spoil her fun this time. She was sixteen years old and she wanted to get a little dirty before they put her up on her pedestal in the palace and she wasn't allowed to so much as breathe _wrong. The first thing she did when she made camp at the edge of Wuitai lands to the east, on the coast of the Sea of Ice (_Keleb'k'Mere_ in the Old Tongue, as Red had painstakingly driven into her head) was to take out the dagger hidden in her boot for protection._

She glanced at it in the firelight, thinking again about all the rigid living at home and then made her decision, raising the blade to lop about two feet off her beautiful ebony hair. She grinned at her proof of her defiance and tucked the braided lock into her leather pouch, hoping to find some use for it some day…

The gates of Midgar, Shinra's metropolis, the Royal City- practically the only city still under rule of the monarchy, the rest of the lands and small towns mostly ignored by the government, were even easier than Wuitai had been. She couldn't believe it was so effortless to barter passage on a merchant ship and leave her continent for the east and then pass straight into a city that was practically its own country. Yuffie's eyes stayed up as she entered a smaller slums-gate, staring up in wonder at the huge metal plate that blocked out the sky.

She'd never seen anything like it, she couldn't believe there were people who lived their whole lives in the shadow of that ugly, twisted thing; what did the Shinra do to keep control? Surely the slum-dwellers couldn't be happy _with the way things were…? Yuffie was beginning to understand Red's comments about Midgar- it would be better under the Empire, but it was so far away… How could she possibly hope to win a war against a city that was bigger than her entire nation?_

"Hey kid!"

Yuffie's head snapped around,

"Why doncha write 'new in town' on yer chest- or is that not obvious enough fer ya?" the same voice continued, sounding rather amused with itself. It sounded something else too…

Uh oh… _Yuffie turned, ready to fight, almost certain this person somehow knew who she was- she wouldn't be surprised if her face was all over Midgar news, probably followed by slander and lies. She reached behind her back to draw her weapon, but there was a sudden intense pain in the back of her head and the world started to fade._

Can't friggin' hear… stupid city… _She thought, irritated, as she lost consciousness._

When she woke she was surrounded by unfamiliar people in an unfamiliar place- a dirty, dark and threatening unfamiliar place, and the people were worse. She groaned as she looked up at her captors, rubbing her head as one of them grinned at her,

"Welcome to AVALANCHE, princess."

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Cloud rolled his shoulders and threw a few punches in the air, testing the movement of the stiff white suit he had to wear to make his impersonation of the crown prince the slightest bit convincing.

"Stupid sleeves..." he complained aloud. He would never understand the sacrifice of either fighting ability or comfort to aesthetics.

"They're not so bad." Rufus straightened from his post leaning on the doorframe and took a few steps into the bland cell of a room. Cloud rolled his eyes as he tossed his elbow back and frowned at the limited range he had to jab someone behind him.

"It's illogical to endanger your life for the sake of appearances." He muttered, echoing his earlier sentiments.

Rufus shrugged, "I have more than enough body guards- and I am important enough not to worry about it."

"Once," Cloud whispered, far more to himself than Rufus, "I thought something like that… but I've learned not to trust anything but myself." He pursed his lips in thought and silent reflection, opening and closing his fists absent-mindedly.

"Did you say-?" the young prince looked up at his brooding companion in wonderment.

"No." Cloud quipped, crossing the small room and staring at himself in the pristine mirror, making it more than clear that no attempts to extract an explanation from him would be successful. In the mean time, he reached up and started pulling at his hair, trying without much success to flatten it out of its natural spiky mess.

Rufus chuckled, "You don't have much experience with this, do you?"

Cloud grunted.

"I'll send someone more aesthetically inclined to... help you out." Rufus made for the door, still sniggering to himself.

"I'll manage." Came the almost incoherent response that sounded more like a lion than a man.

Rufus laughed out loud as he left and Cloud continued to grumble miserably to himself as he pulled the longest sections of his hair into a ponytail and dunked his head in the sink in an attempt to weigh down his spikes.

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They took me out today, I don't know why, the doctors never tell me what they're doing… probably because they don't consider me a _person_, no I'm just an experiment. I'm an oddity, I don't deserve common civility like privacy or being told what's to become of me.

They stripped me naked and shoved me into a tiny room where I was sprayed with chemical-smelling liquids and suds and finally water- at first I thought I was finally being terminated, finally meeting the end that would be my only release from the torture of my life. I don't know whether or not I'm relieved that I survive still- or whether it would have been better if they'd just killed me.

They took me to another room where five women in masks put me into a beautiful flowing gown of fine fabric and dressed my hair, patiently combing out what was probably years of tangles, they grabbed my face and covered me in make-up. I was so confused, so utterly defeated at what these new developments could possibly mean… What were they going to do with me? Make into some sort of high-priced…

Surely not… Oh, Planet save me, just kill me so I can join my parents… I don't care anymore, I just want to be with someone I love. I'm tired of being an object- can't anyone see beyond what I am? Why does it matter so much? Why won't they _talk _to me before I go mad!

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The chair he was sitting in was the least comfortable he'd ever had the misfortune to discover. The atmosphere wasn't particularly welcoming either. They were inside a huge warehouse of some kind, a podium had been erected on a make-shift stage at one end and a flustered woman in a business suit was trying desperately to call the enormous crowd filling the building to order.

"People of Midgar! Subjects of king Shinra! Friends! How can we answer your questions and stay your concerns if you will not let us speak!" The room slowly quieted, as the assembled rabble of slum-dwellers seemed to realize she was right.

"Yer factories poison what little air we got down here! How are ya gonna 'stay our concerns'?" A voice raised itself to the very rafters of the lofty chamber above the general din of people.

"You are deceived by rebel factions!" the woman cried exasperatedly, "Our factories do not pollute the air, we burn clean!"

"How can yer tell us ya dun pollute- yer not the one who's gotta breathe this crap every day!" a second voice spoke up, sounding just as righteous and angry as the first. " 'Sides, even if it weren't fer the smoke- this big ugly piece of turd factory dun't help us! It only helps the rich bastards upstairs!"

"No!" the speaker was beginning to lose her composure, "You aren't listening! If you had read our pamphlet you would know we are giving up all foreign workers and we are going to hire exclusively from the lower regions of Midgar!"

"They're slums, lady! No amount of pretty talk will change it, neither!" There was a chorus of agreement and then another individual voice.

"Hey!" a brown-haired head rose up above the crowd, "Ask his highness there why we live like pigs in the slime and he's sitting pretty in his spotless white in a palace under the sun!"

Cloud bristled as the rag-tag bunch continued to shout ugly things directed at him, or rather, at the persona he had assumed. There was utterly nothing he could do to prevent the spiraling downfall of the meeting and he found himself wondering why he was doing this in the first place. The black clad guard he'd talked to in the hall looked at him helplessly and the woman at the podium looked about to explode in rage.

"The prince Rufus is not here to be interrogated!" she practically shrieked into the small microphone, "The prince is here to show you that the crown is behind us and when _I _answer your questions I speak directly for the _king!_" she panted for breath and a creeping silence settled over the room.

Cloud let out a hissing breath between his teeth and leaned over to the guard, "That was too damn close." He whispered fiercely.

"What d'ya want me to do?" she muttered in response.

"Something, damn it! What are you here for if you're not going to bloody do anything?" Cloud crossed his arms in irritation at being forced to rely on someone else.

"I'm here to keep anyone from getting too close to you, that's what I'm here for. Uncross your arms." She added this last statement with a twinge of amusement.

"Why?" he raised an eyebrow at her.

"The prince... the prince's arms don't have quite that much to them."

Cloud's arms dropped and he looked away quickly. The guard smiled to herself as the meeting went on and her charge seemed to grow increasingly edgy. Eventually she found herself bored almost stiff.

"Hey, Mr. Strife," she whispered.

"Yeah?" came the muffled grumble from behind Cloud's collar.

"Since we're here, may's well talk."

"So talk." Cloud shrugged as though he couldn't possibly care any less what she did. Which he couldn't.

"Well... for starts, I guess I should introduce myself." She received absolutely no response; "I'm Tifa Lockheart."

"Delighted to make you accq..." Cloud cut off his own sarcastic remark as the name he hadn't been paying attention to seeped into his head, "Did you say Tifa?"

"Yeah..." she nodded, looking at him as though he were growing a second head.

Cloud was silent and stared at the floor, brooding.

"Um..." Tifa's curiosity was peaked and with curiosity came courage, "Do you know somebody with my name- or..." she remembered the conversation from the hallway and wondered if she _should _take her mask off, just once, where no one else would see… Her curiosity was starting to get painful with the assurance that there was _something _there. They couldn't _both _be imagining things.

"I know someone." He stared at her very intensely for a fleeting moment and then his gaze turned to the floor.

"Wanna tell me about it?" she pushed, her inquisition getting the best of her.

"No." Cloud's flat voice left no room for protest.

"Why not?" Tifa asked reflectively, the ruby eyes behind her guard hood fixed on the blonde.

"I don't talk about myself- I don't talk to people I don't know and I don't know anybody." He went to cross his arms again but stopped himself and grunted in annoyance, letting his hands fell into his lap.

"Why not?" she repeated, trying not to notice his grip on his coat getting tighter and tighter.

"Because I don't. I don't know anyone because I don't want to know anyone. That includes you, Tif... Tifa." He stumbled over the name he hadn't spoken in so long....

"But _why _don't you want to?" she told herself this would be the last nudge... she didn't know how much more he would tolerate and had a suspicion that it would be the last regardless of her self control.

"Because I don't, now leave me alone." He stared straight ahead from the remainder of the hearing and refused to response to any amount of probing.

__

'Now I'm involved...' Tifa lamented to herself, _'and once I'm involved... well, I just have to get to the bottom of things.'_

()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()

After peeling off the white trench coat and the tight black turtle neck Cloud was about to sprawl out on the cot that made up one of his small room's two pieces of furniture- the other being a tiny table- when the door opened. _Rufus. Splendid._

"Are you not curious about your real mission? I've decided to give it to you." The prince stepped into the dimly lit room and his eyes narrowed as he looked at Cloud. "Wounded?"

"Huh?" Cloud looked down at himself in confusion before remembering the ever-present bandage on his left arm and answering simply, "No."

"Why are you bandaged if you have no wound?" Rufus clasped his hands together at the small of his back, studying his latest employee and finding himself fascinated with the endless mystery that seemed to surround him. Why would a street rat be shrouded with so much intrigue?

"Reasons that don't concern you." Cloud was saying in his emotionless voice, the words almost noticeably chilled the air in the already frigid chamber.

The prince rested his gloved hand on the metal frame of the cot.

"Everything concerns me. I am your employer and future king, Strife, don't you forget it." Rufus' mouth was tight and his voice was filled with a small edge of threat.

"I don't care."

"I think you care about a lot more than you let on." Rufus pointed at Cloud in an almost accusing manner. The mystique was really beginning to irritate him.

"You think wrong." Cloud shrugged, "And if you decide to press me about what doesn't concern you then you won't _be_ my employer any more. As for future king..." Cloud sneered, "I never noticed what your tyrant of a father did so why should you be different?"

"You're not in control." Rufus was seething.

"Aren't I?"

The two men stared at each other across the small space.

Finally, Rufus broke the silence, "Your insolence won't last more than an hour on a _real _assignment, and you'll be terrifically sorry if it does." The prince's almost offhand comment was far less than what Cloud had been expecting.

"Really. All I've been taught so far is that I can get away with it." Cloud crossed his arms. He felt as though he'd been doing that a lot as of late.

"I can remedy that." Rufus' fingers flexed against his leg, unspoken threats hanging heavily on the air.

"I dare you." Cloud challenged coldly.

"You highness!" both men whirled to face the door in surprise at the outburst, a servant stood there gasping for breath, "She's here!"

Cloud's eyes flew to the prince for an explanation; Rufus' thin lips curled up in a sinister smile.

"So, would you like to meet your assignment?"


	4. Lady in Pink

_Chapter Four: _Lady in Pink

"Meet...?" Cloud frowned in confusion; "I don't..."

"Yes," Prince Rufus grinned in a smarmy manner, "meet." He raised his hand and snapped his fingers, summoning a servant waiting outside the door into the room.

"Your highness?" the girl was doe-eyed beneath her cropped brown hair and seemed to be perpetually petrified.

Rufus grinned at the other blond across the room, "Fetch Mr. Strife his uniform- the official one my royal father insists on- we want him looking presentable for the lady's arrival."

"Your highness." The servant repeated with a bow, quickly fleeing the room. Cloud watched her leave, wondering absently if there were any other words in her dictionary besides the title.

"Allow me to explain," Rufus announced uncompromisingly.

Cloud gave the prince his unwavering attention.

Rufus was unshaken, "Your 'assignment' is really a person- a lady of some importance- my fiancée, actually." He paused significantly, "You see, Strife, I am hopelessly sentenced to an arranged marriage sometimes this year. You will be several things to mine betrothed..."

"Assuming I accept." Cloud interjected, more to annoy Rufus than anything else. He had every intention of accepting, thus far, in fact, he was fairly interested by the whole affair.

Rufus studiously ignored him, "First, you will be 'seen' with her in public among the common people."

"Why would you want to bother with that?" Cloud more than realized there was usually some sinister motive driving everything the royal family did.

Rufus smiled, "Never miss a beat, eh? I wish to..._endear _myself to the people so they will support my crowning when the time comes. Well, my fiancée is a naturally endearing person from what I have heard and a royal romance? What could be closer to a fairy tale? They will eat it up, Strife, they'll push for my coronation! Once I am on the throne...."

Cloud waved his hand dismissively, as if he'd heard enough, "All right," he said almost reluctantly, his face a mask, "So you want me to... 'date' her."

"Court would be a better word- and pretend to is more like it, but essentially, yes. Go to dinner, plays, functions, just be seen. You may kiss her if you feel so inclined, it could only help and I hear she is a very beautiful woman, feel free to take advantage. None of it makes any never mind to me." The prince seemed to be in a strange temper all of a sudden. "Anyway, second, you shall be her personal bodyguard. You will obey her orders as long as they don't conflict with mine. Run errands for her, protect her, taste her food, the like... whatever. Thirdly- "

The servant's stepping into the room interrupted Rufus' briefing, in her arms Cloud's new attire was neatly folded.

"The uniform, you highness." She said meekly.

Cloud noted the addition of two new words to her vocabulary.

"Well," Rufus demanded irritably, frustrated with the girl's shyness, "Give it to him!"

The servant bowed and crossed the room to Cloud, looking very much as if she were walking her to own execution, her steps small and her short legs carrying her in a scurry. Cloud struggled not to laugh at her antics as he took the clothes and she darted away from him- he hadn't realized he was quite that frightening. 

Rufus sneered at the girl's back as she hurried out the door into the relative safety of the corridor.

"Old concubine, highness?" Cloud commented, grinning to himself.

Rufus' eyes shot back to his new mercenary with a venomous stare.

"And thirdly...?" Cloud prompted in a business-like manner, gesturing for the prince to continue and finish his orders. He acted for all the world as if it had been Rufus' personal blunder that had steered them off course in the first place.

"Thirdly... watch her." Rufus said, almost distractedly.

Cloud's thin eyebrows knit together. "Watch her?" he regarded Rufus questioningly, "Wouldn't that tie in with being her bodyguard?"

"No." The prince muttered sharply, "In this case it wouldn't."

"Why not?" Cloud was getting swiftly irritated with this game of cat and mouse.

"I don't mean that _sort _of watching." Before Cloud could say anything in response, Rufus went to the door and shooed away the servants lurking outside, then closing it on the empty hallway.

"What sort of watching _do you_ mean, then?" Cloud asked when the white-clad boy rejoined him.

"...Just... _observe _her." The prince instructed quietly, "Look for... eccentricities... differences, exceptionalities... queer happenings."

"What is this about? Is she... of Spellshaper?"

Rufus shushed Cloud in one hell of a hurry.

"How do you even know about that?" he whispered, lowering his voice as much as possible. "No one's talked about it since the scare..."

"I do." Cloud shrugged. "That's all you need to know."

"Well... I don't know if she is. This is an arranged marriage- my father's never taken an interest in my future bride before, why now? Everything he does is to his own benefit- something about her is worth going after- but what? I want to know what he gains and I want you to find out for me. I wouldn't tell you this, but I rather think it's common knowledge. Remember Strife, there is no honour amongst thieves- and that's what this family is."

Cloud shook his head, "This whole thing is like a massive game of chess."

"Your job doesn't involve your opinion. Now put that uniform on- the lady should be ready to meet us in the west wing soon."

Cloud crossed his arms, "You gonna watch?"

Rufus wasn't amused. "I will inform you of the protocol in the corridor."

***

"...You will address her as 'my lady', she is twenty-two years old, her proper title is the lady Aeris Gainsborough of the East, but she isn't really from the east. My spies tell me she lived in the slums of sector seven for years, my father just wanted to make her sound more like a princess."

"Fascinating." Cloud pulled at his new clothes as they walked. He wore a silky black collar shirt and white dress slacks (Shinra royals generally favoured dress clothes as uniforms): he'd never been so uncomfortable and before he had thought Rufus' outfit was bad... _That's nothing compared to this... _he grumbled mentally. He had even had to take out his earring- _not that Rufus of Shinra couldn't bet his spoiled ass it'll be back in first chance I get. _

Huge intricately carved doors that had to be twenty man-heights high stood towering over Cloud and Rufus in the curved main hall of the western wing of the palace. Cloud chewed his lip, secretly nervous about his new mission... he'd never been good around girls. He went all to mush.... He swore that if he blushed in front of Rufus he'd quit then and there.

The doors were opening.

"Her ladyship Aeris Gainsborough of the East!" the crier's voice boomed in the silent room as the great doors swung open on their enormous hinges.

Cloud, with a marked amount of dismay, felt his cheeks warm as the most beautiful girl he had ever seen stepped daintily into the room, almost as if she were floating. Granted, Cloud hadn't seen many women not covered in fourteen layers of sludge- but it didn't matter.

Aeris had a lovely, soft, heart-shaped face with open, welcoming features that flowed with ineffable smoothness. Her eyes were round and brilliant emerald green, with that same strange depth that Cloud's had. Her small mouth was composed of full, pink lips that turned up in a manner that begged they be kissed.

Speaking of which... Cloud was suddenly, rudely reminded that Rufus had given him permission to kiss his fiancée. In fact, he had all but made it a condition. Cloud wished desperately that he was as cold as he pretended to be... people without feelings didn't get embarrassed or stutter with shyness... or any of the other horrible things he underwent every time he was in the company of a beautiful girl.

The lady's hair cascaded over her shoulders in milk-chocolate ringlets from a double braid that circled her head like a crown. Another thin braid fell across her forehead and hugged the curve of her chin. The shoulders graced by her hair were bare, but for the thin straps of her gown, which was a simple flower pink affair that slid smoothly over her body to her hips where it flowed away in a long train that brushed the floor and kept her feet completely hidden. 

Cloud couldn't help but stare.

"My lady," prince Rufus took her small, gloved hand and kissed it politely. 

She nodded her head in greeting and her long gold earrings jangled softly with the motion of her head; like tiny brass bells.

"Your highness." Her voice was incredibly soft, but it commanded a certain air of power... allure, something else that could not described, nor even completely recognized. "Who else comes to greet me, my darling prince?"

Rufus seemed to stiffen a little at her attempt to appear affectionate.

"This is the man for whom you ought to save your 'darlings', my lady. May I present your personal bodyguard and general 'Jack of all Trades'; Cloud Strife." Rufus swung his hand in Cloud's direction, who bowed, legitimately this time.

"Ah yes," the future queen of Midgar said pensively, "The one who will remain at my disposal and accompany me to all places imaginable. I received your letter, your highness, but you did not include a name."

"There was no name when the letter was written, my lady."

Aeris smiled at Cloud almost apologetically as Rufus spoke. He was puzzled as to why....

"Well," she said as if something had been decided, "We are to be friends, then." She put her hand out to Cloud for him to kiss.

Cloud chewed the inside of his cheek as he did so, trying to use violence to keep his cheeks from going red. He wasn't having much success, and he found that he already missed having his shot of wild blonde hair around his face to hide his expression. 

"Quite." Rufus commentated dryly. "Strife, escort the lady Aeris and her entourage to her new apartments. XI001 will show you the way."

In the hallways the guard in black, XI001 (also known as Tifa) walked ahead to guide the way through the winding corridors of the palace, Cloud walked several spans behind with Aeris' arm resting on his formally, behind them Aeris' formal guard of six men practically marched. 

"I'm sorry..." Rufus' fiancée was saying gently, her cheeks gaining a little more pink than usual.

"What.." Cloud swallowed, giving himself a mental lecture about how cold and emotionless he was, "What for?" he cursed internally, "Uh... my lady."

"Call me Aeris, I'm much more used to it... and... for talking about you like you were a thing not a person. I'm sorry."

Cloud was struck utterly dumb. By a number of things, that she even cared at all how she addressed the hired help and that she felt the need to apologize about something that barely existed. She'd hardly said a thing to anyone and what she did say was a far cry from offensive. All that and she seemed to be talking an awful lot more like a normal citizen than a princess all of a sudden...

"You didn't, my la- Aeris... You don't have to apologize to me for anything, anyway."

"I just... I felt badly about it, even if it was only silly." She seemed thoughtful for a moment, "Is the prince... well, is he always like that?"

_Like what? An ass? Oh, yeah. _"Don't really know him that well." Cloud shrugged.

"As far as you can tell?" she pushed.

"Yeah." Cloud stumbled, "I mean yes."

Aeris giggled softly, surprising her escort. "You don't need to be all uptight around me, I'm not really a princess. Actually... I'm really far away from being a princess."

"But- " 

"Relax, we'll have more fun that way." She smiled at him, "Which we may as well have, we will be spending a lot of time together. I don't think the prince'll be very entertaining..."

"Yeah..."

"Aren't you excited? I'm hurt, Cloud." She was only teasing, but Cloud was easily flustered when it came to the fair sex.

"No, my lady, of course I am- uh, I mean, I'm not _too _excited, but I- "

Aeris outright laughed.

And Cloud was blushing helplessly, "My lady?"

"I'll have to look into getting you assigned a sense of humour, Mr. Strife." Her bright green eyes sparkled in amusement. 

Cloud was silent. Ahead of them Tifa's shadowed eyes were wide with shock. The unshakable, stone-faced, cold warrior who wasn't troubled by feelings that she had accompanied to the hearing seemed to have vanished! Replace, by a blushing boy! He might as well have shed ten years from his age, and a whole lot of boldness and contrariness with them.

"Cloud?" Aeris wasn't prepared to let her days pass in silence while she did have someone to talk to, it was clear that being married to Rufus would bring no relief from the last two years of misery...

He regarded her silently, letting her know he was listening.

"Where do you come from? Rufus didn't say your title..." she was hoping she would find something in him to latch on to, he seemed a harmless enough friend... he certainly wasn't enamoured of the royal family.

"I have no title." Cloud answer guardedly. He wasn't sure whether or not he ought to tell her he came from the slums. If Rufus' 'spies' were to be believed it would be common ground for them, but yet...

"Oh?" she turned inquisitive eyes on him, "Why not?"

Perhaps she was ignorant of Midgarian hierarchy. There were few reasons why someone would be without a title, perhaps they were a bastard who had shamed their family with their birth. Or they came from the slums, as Cloud did, and had renounced their heritage because of its undesirable nature. Or they were someone of great importance- someone important enough not to _need _a name; someone important enough to keep their name from you if they so chose. 

"I would rather not say..." Cloud muttered unnaturally. He couldn't bring himself to say it, to confess.... _I sleep in the streets... _

"I see, a man of mystery." Aeris smiled, amused and hoping that this could become somewhat of a game between them. If he were to always deflect questions seriously she would be frightfully bored. She was already relishing in the companionship of another _normal _human being and she wanted desperately to keep that. 

"Some." Cloud replied with a slight hint of warmth and a ghost of a smile pulling at his full lower lip.

Tifa was more flabbergasted all the time.

"Well at least your interesting then. And here I thought you would be only another pretty face." Aeris wondered if that was going too far for someone who seemed so reserved too quickly.

"Of course not," Cloud was feeling adventurous all of a sudden- likely because he was genuinely enjoying himself for the first time in years, "For that I'd have to be pretty."

_Oh but you are! _Aeris mind protested immediately against her will, she found herself blushing lightly at the unexpected thought... all though it was true... Fortunately for her dignity, her mouth thought into the issue more deeply and merely slid into a smile.

A few paces ahead, Tifa's thoughts mirrored the lady Aeris'.

Cloud remained blissfully oblivious. 

Tifa stopped in front of a heavy wooden door, intricately carved with scenes of a battlefield, and stepped aside to let the small party pass her. Cloud hesitated at the door, uncertain about what he was supposed to do. Aeris lay a hand on his arm,

"You are to occupy the rooms adjoining mine... you _are_ my bodyguard." She said softly. 

"Oh."

"Cloud... I'd like us to be friends," she looked down with curious melancholy, "I have no one else here, you see."

"My lady," not knowing what to say, Cloud bowed and turned to Tifa, waiting to be shown to his quarters.

Tifa smiled to herself as she unlocked his door, "So what do you think of her?"

Cloud glanced at the woman in black and then stepped into his room without a word.

"Talkative aren't you..." Tifa muttered as she left.

"Sir?"

Cloud nearly jumped out of his skin, he wasn't used to being surprised by anything. Usually he had a sort of sixth sense that warned him of uninvited company.

"I have brought your things, sir." The servant flicked his wrist towards a dresser. "You will find clothes of your own in there and for... your assignments there, in the wardrobe."

"Thank-you." Cloud nodded uncertainly.

"I will bring you your evening meal."

He nodded again, not knowing what else he could do.

When the servant had gone Cloud investigated the dresser, his old rags and several copies of the so-called 'uniform' he now wore occupied his first drawer. Below, the second drawer was full of royal guard uniforms: sleeveless black turtle necks and thick black pants. Cloud had swiftly lost interest by the time he found nightclothes in the third drawer.

"Sir, your supper." He set the trey of steaming food on the squat table in the center of the room.

"Hey..." Cloud started, trying to stall without knowing what to call the servant, "Uh... you don't know what I'm supposed to be doing tomorrow- do you?"

"No, sir."

"Know when I'll find out?"

"No, sir."

"Ah." Cloud said, "Thanks."

"Think nothing of it, sir."

_Oh I do. _

"Will that be all?"

Cloud nodded. When he was alone he sighed heavily, wondering how long he'd be a false crown prince's beck and call boy... false... He'd better refrain from thinking it or he might let it slip aloud. If he let it slip aloud he would need to explain himself... then he'd be running again. Always running from something he could never escape.

"I should not have come back." He buried his head in his hands.


	5. Following the Leader

__

(I turned sixteen last month! Go me. Except I didn't really want to be sixteen.... humph. Anyway, that and review are all I have to say.)

Chapter Five: _Following the Leader..._

When the lady Aeris opened the door of her apartments both her bodyguard and her fiancée were standing with their hands clasped behind their backs. The air in the hallway was extremely strained.

"We have awaited you rising, my lady." Rufus smiled in his most greasy manner, he seemed to mistake the smarmy and unpleasant expression for charm.

"You flatter me, highness." Aeris tried to incline her head coyly, but she didn't find Rufus' attitude encouraging to flirtation.

Rufus bowed. Cloud was waging an internal battle, trying to resist the temptation to thwack the young prince upside the back of the head while it was bent so perfectly in range for him to do so. Aeris seemed to hide a giggle behind her hand as she watched the development of this clash of will in the depths of her bodyguard's eyes.

"If it would please my lady," the prince went on as he straightened up and out of harm's way... in general. "I have arranged for you to view the opera from the royal box. It is fitting for you to go on outings from the palace and the nobles deserve to meet their queen face to face- the parade upon your arrival was not sufficient."

Aeris nodded consent, smiling at how quickly a chance for her to leave this insufferable palace had come up. 

Cloud was considering the new information that Rufus had passed on to him unwittingly. He had not known there was a princess coming when he was in the slums, and he certainly hadn't known that there was a parade in her honour. What exactly were the news stations that broadcasted in the lower sectors telling their viewers? Certainly not the news, it seemed... How much was the government really keeping from the people? How much was a sham? Was there anyone to trust?

The monarchy was doomed if the ruling class continued like this... people only take so much. Cloud had seen a rebellion once before and the short-lived violence was more than enough to leave aftermath to the day he now stood next to the crown prince. Rufus wasn't even alive at the time of the revolution... Cloud shuddered as waves of memories passed over him, he had been in the center of the unrest in more ways than one and he had seen things no child the age he had been should ever see. 

__

'Fool them once shame on you, fool them twice shame on them... The people of Midgar won't stand for shame, Rufus and they won't stand for your crown games.'

Rufus was returned the lady Aeris' smile, or at least he was trying to- it was obvious he was in haste to leave the situation and his fiancée behind him. "Whenever you are prepared to leave the carriage will be waiting and ready." The prince bowed again and made his exit.

"So what are _you _doing today?" Aeris prodded Cloud with a laugh, leaning forward to look into his downcast eyes, wondering if he caught the joke. 

"I go wherever you go, my lady." 

Aeris sighed heavily, despairing at ever having anyone at the palace to really talk to. _'I wonder how that sense of humour is coming...'_

"Unless," Cloud continued, his tone remaining totally level and his face serious, "of course, you go into the _dear_ prince's bedchamber- in which case, you'll have to excuse me if I'd rather not."

__

'Fairly well!' Aeris answered her own silent question as she laughed in absolutely delighted surprise.

"Otherwise, my lady, I am at your service." Cloud grinned as he bowed, endlessly pleased that he had managed to make her laugh- not to mention the ease with which he had talked to her. He thought perhaps he was getting better.

"Well, I'm ready to go now- shall we see what on earth Rufus means by a carriage?" She took Cloud's arm, laying her fingers lightly over his knuckles and letting her forearm hover just above his- absolutely perfect form in the Midgarian court. She never even wondered how Cloud's form was just as perfect as she waited for him to lead the way.

"...My lady," Cloud began as Tifa stepped out of Aeris' entourage to guide them, "...Did the prince tell you... what I'm really here for?" The former street rat was uneasy now that he'd made his sudden decision to actually carry on a conversation with Aeris, not knowing how much she knew and how much of his mission was top secret. Her arm felt hot and heavy on his. 

"You mean the fairly tale romance we're meant to put on for the people? Our great debut as thespians?" her tone was clear and unhesitant, but she looked away as she said it. The lady didn't approve of her fiancée's games with his people, that much was obvious.

"Yeah..." Cloud was watching her intently, trying to analyze her reactions.

"It was in the letter he sent me." Aeris said with a sigh, waving her hand dismissively, "I should tell you now, well we're thinking of it; I'm not going to kiss you. I don't care what his highness wants, I won't do it unless there is some sort of dire emergency... or if I mean it..." _'Why the heck did you say that? He was finally coming out of his shell!' _Aeris chided herself mentally, biting her lip and wishing she could take the suggestive sentence back into her mouth.

Cloud swallowed and a lengthy, awkward silence pervaded the corridor, broken only by the soft sound of the party's footfalls.

"Oh." Cloud mumbled belatedly, wishing frantically he could escape from this. That was probably the sole upside to living in the slums: there was no ugly situation you couldn't run like hell in the opposite direction of.

"Anyway," Aeris chirped cheerfully, anxious to change the subject, "Do you like opera, Cloud?"

Cloud shrugged, "Haven't been to one in a _really _long time."

Ahead as she opened the lock on a palace door, Tifa bristled. _'How could he have been to an opera at all? He was living in the slums, on the street, you don't get any lower than that... H e has to be lying to her... but why? It's not like he'd want to impress her, the man's made of ice.' _She half considered saying as much- but decided against it. An outburst would cause trouble she didn't need, and she could always corner him later.

"Then it will be almost new to both of us. I've never been, but I was told much... a long time ago, when I was very young." Aeris seemed cheerful to be making small talk, despite how her voice became suddenly distant near the end of her statement.

"Last time I went it was really high class..." Cloud said quietly, his gaze drifting.

__

"But why couldn't Tif come?" Cloud's small, soft, but insistent voice asked as he peaked over the gold railing of the opulent box, tiny hands gripping it on either side of the huge blue eyes. Blue eyes totally unearthly and almost disturbing to see due to the faint glow emanating from their depths, tinting Cloud's eyelids and the tops of his high, sharp cheekbones with electric blue. As the house lights dimmed, the twin orbs shone like tiny stars from the darkness of the balcony box.

"Why, Missus?" his full lower lip jutted in annoyance as he waited for his answer, using his pet name for her despite his frustration, mostly because he had practically forgotten her real name.

Cloud's nurse lifted her charge away from the railing and installed him in his heavily padded seat, " 'Cause it wouldn'a be appropriate, young mast'a." 

"Why?" he persisted,

" 'Cause poor folk an' rich folk ain't mean ta be friends." 

Cloud looked ahead at the beginning of the performance, his small brow furrowing as he considered what his nanny had said and wondering if this was why Tifa never wanted to talk to him. He'd worried for a while she just thought he was weird... just like everyone else.

Cloud fell silent and his eyes stayed on the floor for a long time. '_Tifa...' _he wonder just how long it had really been since he'd seen her, he'd never thought about it before. And he hadn't really seen her anyway, with the guard mask hiding her features from view. _'Tifa, why did you hate me so much? It was because of my eyes wasn't it... because I wasn't like you or your friends...because I was different from everyone else in the whole world...' _

Cloud shook his head trying to silence the voice of his child self's questions- these weren't the answers he wanted anymore; he wasn't the same person anymore. He'd lost his innocence and naivete, he didn't _care _about people. _Especially_ not Tifa, why would he, she was never anything any better than decent to him and she was rarely that. 

Aeris touched his upper arm with her free hand, "Cloud? Are you all right?"

He shook his head again, "I'm fine."

"You don't look fine- do you want to talk about it?" 

Her kind eyes finally managed to draw his gaze and Cloud felt a twinge of something he couldn't identify, "I'm sorry my lady... I... I don't want to talk about anything."

Aeris didn't look hurt, as Cloud had worried she would (then he really would have been lost), instead she seemed to understand she'd found some raw nerve.

"All right, Cloud, very well."

"Aeris..." he cursed his inability to let it go without making sure she didn't feel snubbed. He'd grown so used to displaying total indifference to society in general he'd forgotten how to be delicate- he'd practically forgotten how to have a conversation that didn't involve death threats and fiendish mockery. 

"It's all right." She smiled at him, "Hey, are you supposed to go to the opera as Rufus or as my bodyguard? He said the nobles should meet me up close, so..."

"He didn't tell me I had to play at being him, and I'm not getting trussed up in that get up of his unless I absolutely have to."

Aeris giggled, "I guess you have a point."

Before they knew it, they stepped into the open air- or what passed for it in Midgar. The plate was better than the slums, of course, but it seemed to be plagued by perpetual cloud-cover, likely caused by the endless industry of the enormous city. All the company heads were gluttonous and no amount of power or intrigue seemed to state their appetite. 

Cloud jerked his head up, feeling his thin cheeks warm as the tiny rays of sunlight that managed to pierce the smog bathed his pale face. His skin was almost deathly white in this natural light, years of living beneath the plate having drained the colour from him and replaced it with a vaguely green hue. Here in the sunlight he looked sickly, the unhealthy shade of his skin contrasting with the strikingly beautiful, rare gold of his hair and the bottomless electric blue of his eyes. Every line of sternness in his expression and every curve of muscle in his body was sharply defined by light and shadow in extremes. Black and white, the shades of gray he was always shrouded in taking refuge from the light.

Aeris looked up at him, her own complexion was fair and freckled, but still natural and healthy. Something stirred inside her as she watched him, she knew it wasn't right for anyone to be so removed from the real world, so engrossed in the technology of Midgar... She was thankful they were outside or she would never even have known; the palace was as typically enshrouded in dim gray as the slums. Aeris wished she could help him somehow, make certain he got out of the prison of the city; Cloud was the first person she'd met in years who didn't... She couldn't think of that, it would only make it worse.

Cloud took a deep breath, heady on the somewhat-fresh air. He hadn't been out of the desecration of the slums in so long he had forgotten what it was like to really be outside. Not that he had a choice... he needed to hide, and there was no place better to disappear than the Midgar slums.

"It's great to be outdoors, isn't it?" Aeris said, her smile dazzling and radiant in the morning light as she tried to make the best of the short time she would be able to enjoy it. 

"I was outside- for real- once." Cloud murmured, waiting for Tifa to show them the 'carriage' Rufus had been talking about. 

"What do you mean? Isn't this real?" Aeris turned up her face to see him better, clearly puzzled.

"I mean outside of Midgar... where it's still green..." Cloud let one of his extremely rare smiles light his handsome face, "There are so many flowers and plants and trees, Aeris, it's like a dream. It was like a dream and I didn't want to wake up..."

Aeris stared up at him in astonished, happy wonderment. 

He seemed to shake himself free from his trance and the light that had been growing behind his expression dimmed, "Not that the world will survive long under this tyrant king- or his s-son." The street rat stuttered for the first time since Aeris had met him and suddenly seemed to realize how much of himself he was allowing to show and promptly clamed up.

"Cloud... do you think the prince will ever let me leave the city?" Aeris asked quietly, she had never been outside Midgar's machine-operated world. The real world, with grass and flowers and trees... really was just a dream to her, a dream she had every night and wished desperately to come true.

Cloud just shrugged, choosing not to notice Aeris' eyes glisten wetly for a moment before she composed herself.

"My lady! Your transport arrives to take you to plate seven, the shopping district." Tifa announced, feeling like a master of ceremonies at a curious. She was a trained fighter, damn it! She needed a real assignment, but they always held her back from any action that ever came her way, she felt like a porcelain doll in a glass case.

"The shopping district? I thought we were going to the opera..." Aeris looked to Cloud and then back at Tifa.

"The prince wishes my lady to purchase a new wardrobe," Tifa wished she could mock _herself_, her own endless droning of formalities starting to get to her, "The opera does not begin until eighth sounding." She was trying not to be short with the lady. Why did her charge have to be a dim bulb? Then again... perhaps she was judging Aeris rather harshly. Probably. It was Cloud's fault anyway if she was. 

"Oh, of course." Aeris blushed, feeling silly. She looked up at Cloud, expecting him to be laughing at her- but his electric blue eyes were as dull as they ever got. And besides which, he wasn't even looking at her, he seemed to be far away from the Midgarian peer....

__

'She reminds me of someone...' Cloud's inner voice mused, _'Someone important... It's one of those things I'm always shutting out. Why don't I want to remember? Why am I too afraid to let it in...?'_

A faint buzzing noise was heard by Aeris and Tifa as they stood in stony silence by the rails on the plate. It grew steadily louder, but the oncoming vehicle was not the heavy train Aeris had been expecting. A blur of sleek, silvery white flashed by them, a rush of wind disturbing their hair and clothing. The carriage came to a halt with a high pitched screech, revealing itself to the two pairs of eyes that had never seen anything like it before. It was squat, the body curled under the rail, gripping it like a child's arms wound around their mother's leg. The cab itself had long arching windows over its nose, tinted to obscure the inside. The nose and tail were both pinched inwards; no means of propulsion visible on the sleek craft. 

Cloud looked at the tiny car doubtfully, it was about two man-height long and one half high.

"The carriage, my lady." Tifa bowed and then walked over to the sunken track where the mole-like vehicle hunched. She lay her hand flat against the side, then tapped it with her free hand. There was a hiss as part of the smooth side became outlined and then lifted up to reveal the shadowy interior. 

Cloud came forward, crouching to look inside before stepping in and turning back to help Aeris down. He gritted his teeth in frustration, however, as he tried to maneuver into one of the craft's steel-framed mesh seats. He bashed his shoulder for the fifth time in the small space, cursing quietly under his breath.

"This cabin wasn't built for anything bigger than a mog." He grumbled, surprising himself by actually speaking when nothing needed to be said. He had never been one for unnecessary words.

"_I _didn't seem have any problems," Aeris sat back in her mesh chair, amused at his antics.

Cloud grumbled some more, wordlessly.

"Of course," the pink-clad lady continued, "I don't have shoulders five spans across."

Cloud just wanted to kill something, feeling the tell-tale warmth rising in his cheeks. No, he took it back; he didn't want to kill just _something, _he wanted to kill whatever it was that created the horrific phenomena of blushing. 

Aeris was very much amused.

* * *

__

'Bored, bored, bored... What is it with women and clothes, anyway? Women... and Rufus.' Cloud grinned to himself.

"You like it?" Aeris asked as she modeled her latest selection, misinterpreting Cloud's rare visible good mood for approval.

"Huh?" Cloud looked down at her plain black dress, not really interested, "I really don't think you should stake anything on my opinion, lady Aeris." Although the way it hugged the curve of her hip just there was... nope. He would not think about it.

"Well, I'd like to hear it anyway," the woman habitually in pink leaned on the doorframe of the fitting room, smiling enigmatically. "You've hardly said a word since we got here."

Cloud shrugged, his gesture of choice, "I rarely do."

"What? Say a word?" Aeris giggled. 

Cloud just nodded.

"Why not?" The lady seemed to grow slightly more serious, standing up straight and letting her hands fall to her sides.

Cloud shoved his own hands into his pockets, turning away from her innocent, probing gaze. "I don't know... I don't... I don't really like people."

"What do you mean? How can you just not like... the world in general like that?"

"I don't trust the whole human race." He said, surprising himself with his honesty and Aeris with his bitterness, "I used to, but I learned the hard way what a foolish thing it was to try to see the good in people...." he shrugged yet again. "People are usually, as I find it, just selfish, cruel and ignorant."

"Cloud..." Aeris started to reach out to him instinctively. It was her impulse to try to make things right with her touch, it had been as long as she could remember.

"Look," the blond continued, not wanting her to try to make him feel any better about the world, "Nothing against you, my lady, you seem real nice.... It's just that no one has ever treated me with a shred of decency and not wanted something back for it."

"I don't know what to say...." She trailed off.

"You don't have to say anything," Cloud started to walk away, "I'll understand when you don't try to talk to me anymore. I'm used to it." He stood at the entrance to the shop Aeris had chosen, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes downcast.

She was at a loss, she couldn't let him think he was right... but once she went over what on earth was she supposed to say? She sighed as she walked, no matter how stupid it sounded, she'd have to say something; Aeris couldn't lose the only friend she was ever likely to have. She was open and caring, it would kill her to have no one at all to talk to.

One step away from him she stopped, looking up at the quarter of his face she could see. He was taller than she was, though not by much. She swallowed as she lay a hand against one of his powerful-looking shoulders.

Cloud flinched.

"What do I have do for you to trust me?" Aeris' soft voice was insistent and determined.

"I don't know." Cloud whispered, looking at the floor and fighting his instinct to shiver at the first touch not intended to harm him he'd received in years.

"Do you think there's anything?"

"Maybe," Cloud shrugged, clenching his teeth as her palm brushed against the bare skin of his shoulder. He'd almost completely forgotten what it felt like to have someone touch him in kindness, "Maybe not..."

Aeris nodded sharply, biting her lip as she lowered her arm; her fingers sweeping down his tense back as she did so.

Cloud couldn't help it this time; he shivered almost violently. Keeping his eyes down, he turned his head a little to bring Aeris into the side of his vision over his shoulder, "...Thank-you," he whispered.

Aeris smiled tightly, "What for?"

Cloud turned around, letting his arms drop to his sides helplessly, "For caring enough to try."

"Don't thank me for that," Aeris replied, her soft eyes bright, "I want to try."

"Don't get your hopes up." Cloud warned, his voice showing rare feeling by sounding melancholy.

"I can't help it."

* * *

Cloud was not Aeris' escort to the opera, instead she went scandalously alone; in the official sense. Her entourage and, of course, her personal bodyguard were indeed _present- _but they were not considered persons by the Midgarian nobles. Rufus' little oversight made his fiancée's debut rock with gossip about his whereabouts, her nature and everything between. The lady herself did her best to ignore the chatter, but the few words she caught made it difficult not to break down in tears.

"How can they say such things?" she whispered fiercely from her opulent seat.

Cloud's piercing gaze surveyed the scene from behind the thick, velvety curtains, with their aid he remained hidden in the shadows. "I told you, my lady Aeris, people are cruel. Especially when they're jealous... or when someone is different from them." His bitter tone was not lost on his companion.

"Cloud what have you been through? What happened to you to make you the way you are?"

"A lot of things I don't want to talk about." With that Aeris got her first real taste of Cloud's utter and total monotone.

"If you let me in, maybe I could help." She turned her head just enough to see the glint of his eyes in the darkness of the box.

"You don't want in."

"Cloud..."

"You don't." He was matter-of-fact.

"What if I tell you something about me? One thing about me in exchange for one thing about you; then both of us are letting something go and both of us get something out of it. We'd be trusting each other." Aeris waited in tense silence for his answer.

"All right." Came the resigned voice from behind her, closer this time.

She let out a breath of relief, she'd worried the offer might estrange him further. Aeris scanned her mind for something to tell him, recalling one thing that still caused stinging pains in her chest if she let it; "I grew up in the slums in sector five. My father was murdered by a group of thugs when I was two years old."

For a small moment she feared he wouldn't reply, when he did it was quick and curt- and it raised more questions that it gave answers.

"I watched my mother's execution, she died screaming my name."

The silence reigned

* * *

"So what did you find out?" Rufus asked again, his hands clutching the edge of the chair in his office, his knuckles going white with the strain.

Cloud glanced at him with contempt, keeping his arms crossed, "Among other things? That you're a fool. Why would you send her there without an escort- the entire court is gossiping about what's so wrong with her that you couldn't suffer her company for one night." His sudden, aggressive offence caught the young prince by surprise.

"I don't associate with her, that's your job. I hired you so I wouldn't have to become an actor as well as a ruler- so I wouldn't have to deal with her or with the petty social issues she brought with her!" Rufus plunked into his chair angrily, "Why weren't you doing what _you're_ paid to do!"

"She was meeting them 'up-close-and-personal'," Cloud hissed, leaning forward, "I don't look that much like you, _highness. _If you wanted her to meet the nobles _you _should have been there."

"I- " Rufus paused,

"You what?"

"You'll find yourself discharged for your insolence if you say one more word out of line." The blond royal stood, resting his palms of his desk.

"I thought as much." Cloud muttered, "You're an idiot, _your highness, _and I suggest you turn planning these outings over to me if you don't want this whole scheme erupting in your face."

Rufus stared hard at his employee, weighing his options- and whether or not it was worth firing Cloud for his impertinence when he would be so difficult to replace. It wasn't everyday one of his cronies came across someone that not only bore enough resemblance to himself, but could also fight well and be entrusted with information. It _also _had to be someone clever. Besides which, Rufus didn't want to have to kill him, and he would if he took him off the assignment. Cloud knew too much now to live.

"Very well street rat," Rufus smiled greasily, thinking of other methods of teaching Cloud a lesson later on, "You may decide where you take the lady and when if it is so important to you, but all of your decisions must be approved by me. I wouldn't want you spoiling things for me with a stupid mistake, would I? Now," he became business-like, dusting off his jacket as he started to come around the desk, "you've had a lot of time to talk to my fiancée- tell me what you found out." It was not, by any definition, a request.

Cloud bowed his head slightly in assent, recognizing Rufus' breaking point near at hand and deciding it was not the time to test it, "Not very much," he admitted honestly, "She said her father was murdered when she was little. Your spies were also right, she grew up in the slums."

"There's something you're not telling me, that was too easy..." Rufus narrowed his eyes, "What is it?"

"She and I..." Cloud hesitated.

"Report!" the prince barked out impatiently.

Cloud's eyes flashed, but yet, he replied, "We made somewhat of a bargain. Every time I tell her something about myself she tells me something about her." Cloud turned away sharply, both embarrassed and guilty for betraying Aeris' vote of confidence in him.

Rufus was laughing like a hyena, "You? What could there possibly be to tell about you? Your mother's old clients list?"

Cloud displayed awesome self-control by not even flinching, "I will tell you, prince, what I told your Turk on the streets of sector seven: Don't judge by appearances, because things are often more than what they seem."

"You know," Rufus pointed out amiably, suddenly amused by the whole situation, "You talk a lot more when you're angry."

Cloud was silent.

"I'll have to get you angry more often..." Rufus mused for a moment before turning to his mercenary, "Now get out of my sight."

Cloud grinned grimly, devoid of all humor, "As you wish, your highness." _'Enjoy my obedience while you have it, it won't last forever, fool.'_

As he closed the doors to the prince's office, Cloud sensed a presence behind him and whirled around, "Who goes?"

Tifa groaned, wondering what could have possibly given her away, "It's just me."

Cloud grunted, "XI001."

"Excuse me, I have a name, one you seemed pretty interested in yesterday." Tifa was sick to death of answering to a barcode and being walked all over. Well, here was one person she didn't have to take it from and damned if she would.

"I'm not interested in your name or any other part of you, Ms. Lockheart."

Tifa rolled her eyes, "You're a jerk, you know that?"

Cloud looked at her quickly, "Maybe I have a good reason."

"There's no such thing as a reason for being a jerk." Tifa snorted.

"You're very close-minded." Cloud commented as he started to walk the path he'd memorized to his quarters.

Tifa rushed to catch up, "Maybe- but I think it's more likely that you're just a weird jerk-off."

He stopped suddenly, his back rigid. "You know XI001, you've overstayed your welcome."

"You can't tell me what to d- "

"Get away from me." His words came out as a dull hiss through his clenched teeth. _'She hasn't changed...' _

Tifa backed away from him, seeing the look in his eyes and rememberimg the way he had tossed her effortlessly into the wall the first day she'd met him. He'd only used one arm and he'd seemed to vault her like a lightweight javilon- it had been one of her best surprise attacks, too. She'd hit that Shinra wall as hard as if she'd been shot out of a canon.

"Why did you lie to the lady Aeris?" Tifa pushed breathlessly, ready to run for it.

"I didn't." Cloud said solidly, taking up a stance that showed he wasn't going anywhere- mentally or physically.

Tifa was coming to the conclusion that this would not be an argument she could win, "You can't have gone to any opera or nothing like that- you're just an orphan; one more homeless bastard in the slums."

"Watch what you're saying and who you're saying it to-" he snapped, "You didn't have a father either, Tifa." His eyes were burning with rage and the words were chosen too hastily.

Tifa's mouth fell open in shock, "How did you know that?"

Cloud shrugged. "What makes you think I spent my _whole _life in the slums?" he walked away again, and Tifa couldn't bring herself to follow.


	6. Curiosity Killed the Rufus?

I Sleep In the Streets

Chapter Six: _Curiosity Killed the- Rufus?_

Rufus sat pensively at his enormous desk, his hands steepled in his lap and his legs resting on the work surface; the left folded over the right. His office was like most of the rooms in the palace, plain and white. He did have the oversize furniture- but it didn't really boast of the difference between prince and peasant. He would have to speak to father about remedying that. The king hated blurred class lines, like Cloud Strife not being put firmly back into his place- father wouldn't have allowed a grubby commoner such insolence.

"Y2332, I want you to find out everything you can about the history of a man called Cloud Strife. Use our files, the spies, my personal informants; anything. I place all my means of discovery completely at your disposal. Do not come back empty handed." Rufus sat back as the servant scampered off, relaxing in his chair, _'My curiosity must be stated...'_

* * *

"All right, all right, I've got one- "

"Well good, because it's your turn." Cloud grinned as he took another sip of the heady Wutain wine. He usually considered it bad form- not to mention ridiculous- to get drunk, especially when one was working; but the fine velvety taste had been better than expected... and the company couldn't fail. The growing buzz of warmth he felt gave him a sense of well-being he'd lacked for years; it was too sweet not to take advantage of. Besides which, they were in the relative safety of the palace. 

He had been with the lady Aeris constantly- all day, every day- for a month now; seeing her intoxicated was quite an event. A hilarious one at that.

"_I_!" She faltered, glancing at Cloud questioningly, then regaining herself, "Oh yeah- I think yer hot."

"Ah yes, when you're drunk and your vision is good and fuzzy. I'll drink to that." Cloud laughed to himself as he did just that, more than amused by her antics.

Aeris frowned very suddenly, "No... you're always hot... _Really _hot"

"Uh huh," he sipped from his heavy cup. "My turn... I retain alcohol better than you."

She glared at him, as far as she was still able to, at any rate, "That's not a real one- that doesn't count!"

Cloud sighed and blew his bangs out of his eyes. His hair had started to escape in wisps from the ponytail he'd put it in that morning. He had a fair amount of hair covering his face by this time, for which he was thankful- just in case. "Okay..."

"Tell me something I don't know," Aeris smiled, her face still flushed rosy peach with drunken buzz.

Cloud mouth twitched open and then closed again before he finally spoke, "I used to be someone important." He said.

She got that missionary look in her dazzling emerald eyes- which, for some reason, didn't seem to be shining as much as they ought to have been for the amount of wine she'd consumed- "You _are _important, you- "

Cloud held up a hand to silence the sermon before it could really begin, waving his fingers dissmissively, "Yes, yes, we're all very special and unique. I didn't _mean _it in a broken self-esteem kinda way, Aeris."

She tried to raise an eyebrow at him as he so often did to her, but found the small gesture was harder than it looked and only ended up making a long string of ridiculous faces. "Well what do you mean?"

"Ah, I don't mean anything, forget it." He smiled disarmingly, "Your turn."

Aeris pouted, "I feel gypped."

"Too bad, your turn."

* * *

Tifa was running through an older kata when the grunt that had observed- and overheard- the drunken display of Rufus' fiancée and her personal bodyguard pushed into her room. He clapped her on the back as they hailed each other, the newcomer pushing back his guard hood, revealing a very young brown-haired man.

"Hey Biggs," Tifa said, leaving her own mask in place, "What's up?"

"We may hafta go through her bodyguard after all..." Biggs sounded out of breath; he'd run the whole way to Tifa's quarters from the other side of the palace. 

Tifa's eyes narrowed. This was not good news for them, "That's not what I want to hear, Biggs, I've seen that man fight.... Well, what makes you think he'll stand against us?"

"He said some stuff... I think he used to be of high rank. If he were to be a 'hero' the smarmy prince might reinstate him. Or he could be loyal to the crown- " Biggs snorted indignantly at the very idea of anyone being that blind.

"That's not too much to go on, besides even if he were once noble- he could be bitter and want revenge. Then it'd be easy to convert him to the cause, revengers are an easy, easy target. It would explain why he took the job when he obviously has no respect for the prince... but..."

Biggs watched the dark black of the hood with his own dark, liquid brown eyes. "You don't think he was a noble though, do you?"

"No...." Tifa walked away a few steps and stared into the ceiling. "I saw Reco of the Turks haul him in from the slums- one of the worst sectors, too, probably the roughest. He was covered in filth, his clothes were falling off of him in tatters, he's real thin and he looked doubly battle-hardened. And I'm using the soldiers from the King's Own Guard as a basis for comparison. No noble would have gotten like that, they wouldn't let themselves, a noble would have found a way, it wouldn't matter how."

"Nah, Tifa," Biggs interjected, "the nobles are all soft. They'd be dead within one hour in the slums."

"Well there you go, our boy's a seasoned warrior with the biggest-ass sword ever made. A noble wouldn't know how to fight like he does."

Biggs considered that, "Yeah... maybe you got a point. Hey Tifa, why're you _so _dead set against him being a noble? What makes you so sure? You aren't one to get really hard set on something unless there's a reason."

"I just remember... He has to be lying to the lady Aeris, I don't know why he would do that, but that's gotta be it."

He was doubtful, "Why lie for no reason? He doesn't strike me as the kind of guy who makes any apologies for himself." 

"...Watch them," Tifa said sharply, not wanting to admit she didn't have a clue, "Cloud Strife has a secret and I'm going to find out what it is before we strike."

* * *

__

Cloud sat at a desk enormous in comparison to himself, his tiny hands folded on the polished surface, ruffles rendering the little digits almost completely invisible. He sat ramrod straight and at attention, the elaborate, well-starched suit he wore making it difficult to do anything else. It was made of thick, coarse navy blue material and the double-breasted jacket had sixteen gold buttons running down it. Beneath the jacket he wore a silky vest, also double-breasted, and finally a flowing white dress shirt with a big collar and puffed sleeves. Cloud hated wearing all of it, he'd only stopped fidgeting at the fourth warning glare from his nanny.

Nanny was sitting in the far corner of the unnecessarily big room in her grubby kitchen dress, twice-turned and many times mended. In her lap Tifa was squirming to get free from her mother's death grip on her arms, pulling terrible grimaces at her failure.

And up at the front, the person the children- mainly Cloud- were meant to be listening to; the white-haired, blue robbed teacher. This man was mysterious. When he'd been presented to his young pupil he'd looked utterly disinterested through his polite exterior, until Cloud looked up at him and he got a load of those huge, softly glowing eyes.

'You're...' the teacher started.

'Different,' Cloud's small, soft voice finished for him, 'I'm not like anyone else, anyplace.'

The teacher looked up at his employer for an explanation, but the plump, gruff-looking man only smiled tightly, it was obviously fake. 

"Come Bugenhagen, you must meet my wife."

Since then Bugenhagen had taken his job as Cloud's educator very seriously, and though he had asked him almost every day, he refused to explain to the boy what was so interesting about his eyes. Cloud knew why his eyes glowed.... but he didn't know why Bugenhagen would care.

In the classroom, as the teacher droned on endlessly, Cloud tried to turn his head to glance back at Tifa. Every time he saw her and met her eyes she would pull a face at him. Tifa had never really liked him... but he still hadn't learned not to even try to make friends. She had her own group... but he had no one except her- and she hadn't cared, in fact, she didn't even seem to notice.

Cloud was lying on his small bed, his fingers twined together on his chest as he stared up at the ceiling. He wished he could tell someone everything... just once in his life it would be nice to have someone who knew all of what he had been through. He'd never have that... there was no one he could trust that much. In the month that had passed he had come to trust Aeris more than he'd trusted anyone since his mother's death... but not enough.

He'd also come to a sort of business-like friendship with Tifa that had a strange over-tone of searching from her side as well as something else that Cloud couldn't place... or even understand; a lingering fascination. He wondered again if she remembered him at all.

* * *

Aeris looked both ways in the hall before stepping out, then listening at Cloud's door for a moment to make certain he was asleep. Sighing with relief, she started to walk-

"Hey Aeris."

The lady jumped, clutching a hand to her chest and letting out a whooshing breath as she whirled on her surprise visitor, "Tifa, I...."

The pair had slowly become shaky friends, Tifa spending a lot of time with Aeris and Cloud until they learned their way around the palace and the upper city. They still required her services from time to time.

"Shhh..." Tifa stepped closer, grabbing Aeris' arm and leading her down the hall, away from Cloud's door. "Aeris... What has your bodyguard told you about himself?" she whispered, coming straight to the point.

Aeris blinked in surprise, "Cloud? Why do you want to know, Tifa? He's just..."

The fighter gritted her teeth, her mind was drawing blank for excuses, "I can't explain right now- but I will, until then you'll have to trust me."

The lady's mind flashed.

__

Cloud leaned forward over the restaurant table as they waited for their food to arrive, they were putting on a show for the reporter they'd spotted sitting across the room.

"My life used to be different..." he whispered in response to her confession that the Shinra family had bother her all her life.

"How?" she pushed. He owed her something less vague for what she had told him.

Cloud leaned even closer, his navel pressing against the edge of the table as he grabbed Aeris' hand, "I used to live it up."

"You did? How'd you get here?" Aeris turned her head to the side and batted her eyelashes, hoping the reporter was jotting all this down. She knew he was watching already.

"I was betrayed by someone I used to trust..." Cloud's warm breath whispered across her temple, "That's _why I don't trust anyone."_

She looked up at him suddenly as if he'd said something quiet different, their faces were centimeters apart. Cloud grinned at her lopsidedly before sitting down, looking triumphant as their food was placed in front of them.

They had both become fine actors- although Aeris had a sneaking suspicion cloud might have had some experience. He fell into his role too easily.... The picture of them poised so close together- taken from a distance with no zoom- made the front page of all the tabloids in Midgar.

'That's why I don't trust anyone...' 

"Aeris? Hello?" Tifa waved her hand in front of the older woman's face, grumbling internally.

"Sorry," Aeris snapped out of it. "I don't really know that much." She caught herself off-guard with the lie; she never lied. Why was she protecting him anyway? What harm could possibly come from Tifa knowing a few things?

"If I may ask you... If he ever does tell you something- could you tell me?"

"Tifa, Cloud's not just my bodyguard, he's my friend. I really need to know why you're asking."

__

'Damn.' "Uh... Aeris, that's a long story I don't know if I'm prepared to tell right now."

"Well I don't know if I'm prepared to accept that."

Tifa gritted her teeth again.

* * *

**__**

::You should set things right.::

:Easy for you to say... what if I'm afraid, huh?:

****

::Then I'd say there's no room for fear.::

:Yeah, I figured you would.:

****

::Well then, what are we still yakking for?::

:I'm not 'setting things right' at two in the morning, Skiff.:

****

::...Why not?::

:Why do I talk to you?:

****

::'Cause you love me.::

:'Cause there's no one else to talk to. Now shut-up and let me sleep.:

****

::Humph, yes your highness.::

:...Don't... call me that...:

....

....

.....

.....

....

__

((PPLLLLEASSSEEEEE REVIEW!!! PLEASE! **Begging**

One other thing; if I could ask a favour from anyone read this: could someone write me a good summary? I cannot write a summary to save my life and I'd love some help.))


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